


The Memoirs of Spot Conlon

by PleaseDontHoldBack



Series: United Front [2]
Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 58,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleaseDontHoldBack/pseuds/PleaseDontHoldBack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prologue to Getting Back Together Again.  See how Spot got his start and won Brooklyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stealth or How Sean Became Sean

**Author's Note:**

> I started Getting Back Together Again several years ago. These chapters were much more recently (and hopefully better) written. Please review and tell me what you think. Considering most of the characters in this story are original, I'm a little nervous as to how it will go over.

 

Sean: 6  
Ryan Travis: 8

 

A six-year-old Sean walked up to another boy sitting by the river bed.

"This is my river," Sean declared with a frown.

"But the water's mine," the other boy replied monotonously. He was sitting hunched over, grabbing his knees. He didn't even bother looking up at Sean as he let his shaggy, dark hair fall into his eyes. 

"The water can't be yours if it's in my river!" Sean shouted back, clenching his fists.

"That's like saying if you own a toll road you also own all the car's driving on it. My water's only in your river for a little while," the other boy claimed, looking towards the river with wide, brown eyes. "Eventually it'll go into the ocean. Or float up into the air." His gaze never left the river.

"You're stupid!" Sean yelled. "Without water my river couldn't exist!"

"You should have thought about that before you claimed it," the other boy said.

Sean clenched his teeth. He didn't like smartasses. "You're a big, dumb … doo-doo head! I'm king and what I say goes! And look at me when I'm talking to you, peasant!" He kicked the other boy's shoulder, toppling him onto the ground.

The other boy finally looked up, and his eyes widened as he looked at Sean. "What happened to your face, King?"

Sean was sporting a black eye along with a cut on his lip. He had a few bruises running from his cheek to his chin on the left side of his face. "This is the price for being king," he said, chin raised high.

The other boy's eyes widened even more. "Why would you want to be king then, King? It seems like it would hurt."

"Because being king's awesome, you big dummy. You don't gotta listen to anyone. And servants do all your chores for you. And you getta boss all the adults around. You getta rule over everything!"

The other boy dropped his jaw. "That sounds like so much to manage. It'd be a lot of responsibility. The whole world, King?"

"Yep! The whole world!"

The other boy shook his head. "It will never happen, King," he said. "I can see it."

"You cannot!" Sean burst out. "Only magic people can see into the future."

"I can to," the other boy said. "I bet you'll own Brooklyn, King, but never the whole world."

Sean's eyes widened. "For real? You think I can own Brooklyn?"

The other boy nodded. "You two will be good for each other, King. She can be your queen."

Sean jerkily nodded his head, his eyes still wide. "I'm gonna be a really good king. Like, the bestest king ever of _ever_. And you can be my knight!"

The other boy nodded. "I can do that. I don't have anything else going on. I'll protect you, King."

"What's your name, Knight?" Sean asked, finally sitting down by his river.

The other boy shrugged as he finally returned to sitting as well. "Ryan."

Sean snorted. "That's a dumb name. I bet I can think of something better."

* * *

5 YEARS LATER

Sean: 11  
Ryan: 13

Sean was sitting along the bank of (his) East River and looking over at Manhattan.

"Yo."

Sean started a little at the unexpected voice. "Hey, Ryan," he greeted with a nod when he recognized his one and only friend. He turned to look back at the river. "Your parents finally let you out? How long were you there this time? I haven't seen you for a couple of days."

The other boy sat down on the bank next to Sean and hugged his knees. "How am I supposed to know something like that? You can't keep track of time when you're locked in a closet, you know. How dumb are you?"

Sean rolled his eyes as he continued looking forward. "Ever heard of a clock, dumb ass?"

Ryan stuck out his tongue. "It's not like I could read it, stupid; it's completely dark in a closet."

"So bring a flashlight next time," Sean replied, finally turning to look at the other boy.

"It's not camping, dummy. It's punishment."

"Maybe if you weren't so stupid you wouldn't be punished so much."

"It's not like I'm _trying_ to get punished. I don't even know what I do to get them so mad all the time."

Sean frowned and turned back towards Manhattan. "It's probably just because they hate you."

Ryan rested his chin on one of his knees and shut his eyes. "You really think they hate me?" he asked softly.

"Who cares?" Sean shrugged. "Grown ups are all bastards anyway. I wish they'd all die."

"Me too." Ryan nodded solemnly before perking up. He lifted his head and opened his eyes as he turned to look at Sean. "Oh, yeah! The weirdest thing happened while I was in the closet this time." He let his legs stretch out and started waving his hands around enthusiastically. "You have to promise to believe me when I tell you, 'kay?"

"Whatever," Sean replied, still not looking at the other boy.

"Hey!" Ryan shoved Sean's arm, knocking him over sideways. He quickly crawled on top of him and held his arms in place. "I mean it! If you don't promise to believe me I'm not going to tell you."

"Who wants to hear your stupid story anyway?" Sean shouted up at him.

"It's a good story!" Ryan shouted back.

"I bet it's lame."

"It is not! Take that back, or I'll make you regret it!"

"You can't make me regret anything, loser!"

Ryan scowled down at Sean for a few seconds. "Oh, yeah?" He quickly swooped down and bit Sean's nose, not letting go.

"Fuck! Get off! Bastard! I give! I promise! Shit!"

Ryan let go and smiled down smugly at his friend. "Told ya."

"Get the hell offa me, ass fucker." Sean shoved the other boy off and pushed himself back into a sitting position. "Now hurry up and tell me your stupid story."

"Oh! Right!" Ryan immediately got excited again. "Okay, so I was sitting all alone in the closet, right? And I was being really quiet and good like I'm supposed to. I was trying to imagine that I was at Central Park like I always do, okay? But it wasn't working this time. And I started getting really scared because the walls were closing in. I wanted to scream, but I knew I couldn't, so I just concentrated really hard on the quiet. Then, this voice told me that I shouldn't get so scared of something so small because there were real dangers I'd have to face soon. Isn't that cool? It feels like I'm the hero in a comic book or something. Do you think the voice came from a different dimension or something?"

"I think you finally snapped," Sean muttered.

"You said you would believe me!"

"I never said that I thought you were making the story up! I just think you're going insane from being stuck in a closet for too long. Your mom probably did too many drugs when she was pregnant with you, and it's finally starting to affect your brain."

"It was real. I know it. You'll be sorry when I get swept up into space or another dimension or something, and you're left all alone."

"Tch. Whatever. Send me a postcard when you get there," Sean replied as he stood up. He looked down at Ryan. "You wanna come over for dinner?"

"Depends. Are you having crap?"

Sean shrugged. "I think we might have some crackers left."

"The good kind?"

"It's annoying how picky you are all the time." Sean rolled his eyes. "Yes, they're the good kind."

"Alright," Ryan replied as he finally stood up. "Is your brother going to be home?"

"When is that fucktard not home?" Sean frowned. "And he's not my brother."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "He seems to think you are."

"Well, he can suck my cock. I don't have a brother."

"Whatever you say, Sean," Ryan granted. "You're too much trouble to argue with."

"What's that supposed to mean? You better watch it, or I'll revoke my invite. Then you'll have to go home, and your parents will probably lock you in the closet again."

"Don't joke about that!" Ryan shouted before shoving Sean in the side.

Sean stumbled a few steps back. "I can joke about whatever the fuck I want, you faggot!" He screamed before taking a running start and charging into Ryan.

Ryan was knocked to the ground as the air rushed out of his lungs. Sean fell on top of him and immediately started punching at any opening he saw.

"Stop it!" Ryan shouted as he tried to get his breathe back. Ha managed to throw Sean off him and quickly crawled back a few feet. "Why the hell did you do that?" he snapped as he stumbled up.

"Stop being such a pussy," Spot commanded before he spit on the ground.

"I wasn't! You're a stupid punk! My parents were right about you. I'm going home," Ryan said before turning around and running back towards his house.

"Fine! Go then! It's nice to know hanging out in a closet is better than hanging out with me! I never liked you to begin with!" Sean shouted at his back.

* * *

Julius sniffled before wiping his nose. He drew back blood. God damn, this coke was shit. Usually his nose could handle more than this. He needed it to be able to handle more than this. He _needed_ more than this.

He quickly began preparing another line.

Julius was a tall kid, quickly approaching the age of twenty-four. He had long, greasy black hair and a five o'clock shadow that needed to be shaved a week ago. He looked to be near starvation and you could easily trace his veins.

He was sitting on a faded floral couch, stooping over a glass coffee table that held a heap of white powder. It wouldn't last him long, but he was hopeful that it would last until his brother got home. Then Sean could go out and get him some more.

He hoped Sean would be home soon.

He swallowed as he felt the coke slide down the back of his throat. It felt acidic and made him want to throw up. He definitely needed some more.

He hastened his preparation as his body screamed for more.

He perked up as he heard a door open and close. "Sean!" he shouted towards the front room. "Sean! Come in here! I need you!"

Sean came around the corner. "What?"

Julius breathed a sigh of relief. "Sean, thank god. You need to get me some more." He held up a plastic bag containing a small amount of white powder. "I'm almost out."

Sean frowned. "We don't have any money, Jules. We're already behind on rent as it is, and this is our second week without electricity. They're threatening to turn off the water next, and I refuse to live without the ability to bathe."

"What?" Julius asked, his eyes getting wide. He swung himself off the couch and knelt down by Sean. He harshly grabbed the boy by the shoulders and leaned in. "How can you be so heartless? I won't have anymore left soon. Then what'll I do? I'll die without it, Sean. I swear I will."

Sean turned away as his personal space was invaded. He tried to take a few steps back, but that just made Julius strengthen his hold. "I can't get anymore money this week, Jules. It's not my fault you blew it all at once."

Julius removed one hand from Sean's shoulder and used it to grab his chin instead. He forced Sean's face towards him. "You can't make anymore money this week? With this face? I know that's a lie. Your customers probably miss you every night you aren't out there."

"I said I wouldn't do it anymore," Sean reminded him, his teeth clenched.

Julius jerked his head back. He frowned at his little brother before backhanding him across the face.

Sean's head snapped to the side, but he didn't move thanks to Julius still holding onto his shoulder.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Julius shouted as he shook Sean with both hands. "Why should I keep you around if you're not making any money? You expect me to take care of your worthless ass? It's your fault I'm stuck in this rundown, motherfucking house to begin with! If I didn't have to drop out of college so I could take care of you, I would be an acceptable citizen right now. And I'd probably be rich, too, with a good looking wife. You owe this to me."

Spot glared and pointed at the white powder on the table. "I'm the reason you have that," he answered quietly. "What have you done in the last week? The last month? Since our parents kicked the bucket? I'm worthless? Then what the fuck are you?"

Julius squeezed tighter on the boy's arm as he clenched his teeth tight together. "You good-for-nothing scum. You selfish little prick. You think I like being here for your worthless ass? You think I like to see my little brother whoring himself out? Huh? Of course I don't! But you don't have a god damn choice. It's your fault our parents are dead. It's your fault we live in shambles now. Now get the fuck out on those streets and earn your stay like a good little whore." Julius grabbed his brother up by the shirt collar. He opened their front door and swung Sean towards the ground. "You are to not step foot on my property until you go out there and make us some fucking rent, you god damn twerp."

Sean knew better than to argue. As far as he was concerned this was getting off easy. What the fuck was he thinking? It was never a good idea to stand up for yourself like that. Not to someone so much bigger than he was.

He wished he had a gun. With a gun it didn't matter what size you were. With a gun the tiniest ant could kill the largest of giants. God, how he wished he knew how to get his hands on one.

He kept walking, not sticking to one spot. He didn't want to be picked up. He didn't feel like whoring yet. Hopefully he could find some open garages and swipe some beer. Whoring always seemed like a better alternative after one or six beers.

* * *

Sean finished his beer before he stepped out of the alley and took his spot on the corner. He'd been drinking too much in the last few … weeks? … months? It was getting hard to keep track of days. He missed Ryan. He hadn't been back to the river since their fight.

Sean shook his head. He didn't want to go back. Ryan was a cunt anyway. If he didn't need Sean then Sean most definitely didn't need him. Sean was much better off by himself anyway. And Julius had been pretty happy with how much he was working. He had even managed to get the electric turned back on.

Good things happened when he didn't have that stupid idiot distracting him.

He smirked as an older man glanced at him, looking him up and down. Sean checked out the man as well, though for completely different reasons. The man was wearing a three piece suit and had a shiny gold watch. He looked good, like he came from money. Sean wondered if he could take his watch after he was done sucking him off. If it was anyone around here they would have noticed instantly, but this man seemed extraordinarily out of place.

The man in question walked over, leaning down a bit to get closer to Sean's level. "How much?"

Sean tried his best not to widen his smirk. Rarely had he been able to determine a price. Most of his Johns called the price themselves, and then it was up to him whether he wanted to take them up on it or not. He leaned forward, putting his arm lightly on the man's suit, seeing if he would notice the touch. "That depends on what you want, and what you want to do to me," he whispered into the man's ear.

The man shivered and pulled back slightly before looking him up and down. He frowned. "How old are you, kid? Where are your parents?"

Sean clenched his teeth. He very rarely ever got these questions, especially not from rich fucks who clearly only pretended to give a shit to make themselves feel better. Sean knew he had a hard time passing for eighteen, but he also knew he didn't look at all like a punk ass eleven year old. He was tall and lanky, easily a foot taller than anyone his same age. His face was thin, courtesy of his almost nonexistent meals, and his eyes spoke of years he hadn't yet lived. "I'm old enough," he said, raising his chin as he tried to keep his temper in check. "And my parents don't matter."

The man continued to stare at him, a frown still on his face. "You know there are places you can go for help. You don't have to resort to this lifestyle. There are people willing to help someone in your position."

Sean narrowed his eyes, his patience wearing thin as the buzz of alcohol faded from his brain. "What the fuck makes you think I need help from some fucking faggot like you? What makes you think I don't like doing this?" He scrounged around in his pocket before finding his pack of cigarettes and stuck one into his mouth. He lit up and breathed in deep before he let himself speak again. "I don't need any fucking help from some dumbass who wound up on the wrong side of town."

The man just continued staring, he was still wearing his frown and his eyes were worried.

It was like the fucking rich ass bastard was pitying him.

And that fucking pissed Sean off. He stooped down and put his cigarette out onto the man's shiny ass brown shoes. "A hundred bucks and I'll suck your dick," he said, getting just inches away from the man's body as he stood up. "If you ain't interested you should find your way back home before you get mugged."

He walked back towards the alley he had come from, forcing his smile down as he heard the footsteps following him. Maybe he should get angry more often; this was about to be the most he had ever made off just a stupid blow job. Guy must have been a god damn idiot.

The man swung him around as the alleyway darkened and shoved him into the wall. He was clenching his teeth now and sneered when Sean just looked blankly at him.

"Money first," Sean said, wondering if this was the guy's style. He didn't particularly like it rough, but he would put up with a lot for a hundred fucking dollars. "Then we can get down to business."

The john grabbed his arm and dragged him a bit farther into the alley, barking out a laugh. "You telling me I can't just take it? You think a child like you is going to be able to stop me? Surely there have been others that've taken it before?"

Sean clenched his own teeth, grabbing the man's hand and forcefully bending it at the wrist. His eyes narrowed as he watched the other man get on his knees on the ground, trying to find some relief in the straining wrist Sean was about to break. "Tried to? Yes," Sean answered, eyes narrowed at the person now below him. "Succeeded? Why the fuck would you think I'd let that happen? You think I'm too much of a pussy to be able to take care of myself? Think sucking dicks is the only thing I can do?"

He stooped low as the man clutched at the wrist Sean already had a hold on. "You know what else I can do?" He pushed a bit harder on the man's wrist, causing him to bite out a grunt. "I can break your god damn wrist if you don't give me my fucking money."

The man wasted no time in digging into his pockets and letting five twenty dollar bills fall onto the cement in front of him.

Sean stepped on them to make sure the wind wouldn't take them away, but didn't let up on the man's wrist. "And another hundred if you still want your dick sucked." He smirked at his good luck as the man nodded and immediately went for his pocket again.

"I-I have this much," he muttered as three more twenties fell on the concrete. "Please. Please," he choked out, looking at his wrist and cringing. "Please let me go."

Sean finally released his wrist and stooped to get his payment. He snickered as the man held his wrist and shifted back in order to lean into the wall behind him, looking at Sean through wide eyes. "You really did wander into the wrong side of town, didn't you, dipshit?" Sean asked, standing up to his full height and looking down at him. "Do you normally rape all your whores instead of paying for them? You did you just think you'd try this time because I looked so weak and pathetic?"

The man quickly shook his head as he tried to burrow into the wall. "No. No. Listen, I don't want any trouble, okay? I'm sorry. I never meant to. It was just-"

Sean rolled his eyes. "You're a fucking coward." He crossed his arms. "It's a lucky thing for you I've got some morals left in me," he grunted before glancing away. "Get the fuck off your old ass if you want what you paid for, you piece of shit."

The man nodded shakily before standing up, his back still against the wall and his injured hand pressed to his chest. With his other hand he undid the zipper on his pants.

Sean stared at him at he sank down to his knees, his back still straight.

That's when he saw the blue and red lights out of the corner of his eye.

"Fuck!" Sean cursed with wide eyes before pushing up and taking off down the alley.

The other man was following behind him and quickly grabbed his arm with his good hand. "Stop! You're under arrest for prostitution and assault on an officer! You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you-"

"What the fuck is this shit!?" Sean shouted, pulling at his hand as the police cars blocked off the beginning of the alley. "You're a fucking pig? What the fucking fuck?! Lemme go you fucking assfuck!"

"... in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney," the man continued, not paying any heed to Sean's loud cursing. "If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you. Do you understand the rights I have-Oaf!"

The man went flying backwards as a human form came flying at him from the drain pipe above them.

Sean immediately took off running as soon as the grip on his hand loosened. "Fuck. Fuck!" He shouted as he ran. He should have fucking known. No regular John would be that eager for a fucking blow job after his wrist was almost broken. And no person in their right mind would pay over a hundred dollars just for Sean's mouth. Fuck. He'd been stupid.

"There's a window to your right," Ryan said, coming up from behind him. "Just hop on the dumpster. Pigs are moving to block the other end of the alley."

Sean nodded, following Ryan's directions without a second thought, despite the fact that they hadn't talked since their fight about this exact thing.

"Told you this was dangerous," Ryan huffed as he closed and locked the window they had just come through. "You've got a lot more talents than this if you wanna make money."

Sean crossed his arms again. He wasn't breathing as heavily as the other boy, but he tried to calm it nonetheless. "You really think this is the time to be giving me lectures? We weren't exactly invisible when we came through this window, you know."

Ryan nodded back to him, trying to take deep breaths to settle down his own breathing. "Right. Let's get to the roof."

Sean nodded back before taking off towards the stairs. "Do the stairs lead all the way there? Or are we getting out through a window and climbing?" He had learned this routine well through the years, and wasn't stupid enough to assume there was an easy way to the roof.

"Fourth floor," Ryan huffed. "Cracked window in the second room to the right."

Sean consciously slowed down so he wouldn't lose him. "We've gotta get you some exercise or something," he muttered as he heard a door burst open from underneath them. He didn't have to see anything to know that it was the pigs. "Fuck, persistent today, aren't they?"

"You did assault an officer," Ryan pointed out as he clutched at his right side.

"I just thought it was an idiot," Sean muttered back. He noticed they were approaching the fourth floor and made a straight shoot through the door Ryan had pointed out. "What the fuck kind of cop wouldn't just immediately arrest me for assault, the fucking faggot?" He kicked at the glass in the window so he could fit through, then hoisted himself out with the help of a drain pipe.

"It sounded like he was trying to help you," Stealth replied calmly, following the other boy out the window. "Perhaps he was trying to get you into a nice orphanage."

Sean snorted as he finished lifting himself onto the roof. He stayed low as he looked at the police cars down below. "Right. Because an orphanage went so well the last time." He spit over the roof, hoping it would hit one of the pigs in the face. "Ass fucks have no idea what they're doing."

Ryan dragged Sean away from the ledge as soon as his feet became steady on the roof. "You ran off last time, in their defense." He whispered back. "C'mon," he said, not waiting for an answer and still dragging Sean by his arm. "There's a place we can lie low a few blocks over. Just stay down so they don't notice us."

Sean rolled his eyes at his friend's paranoia. "They'll get bored in a few minutes," he muttered as he walked a bit ahead and ripped his arm away. "How'd you find me anyway? I thought you would still be busy being pissed."

Ryan shrugged, letting Sean lead even if he didn't know where he was going. "I've been keeping an eye on you," he explained. "I know how much you like getting into trouble."

Sean smirked instead of getting mad. "This whole time, huh? Damn, I didn't even fucking notice."

Stealth nodded and pointed right, indicating which way they were supposed to be heading.

"Hey, Stealth," Sean said, looking at his friend without acknowledging the new nickname. He held up the watch he had managed to steal from his fake John and grinned. "Let's go hock this before we stay in for the night, eh?"

* * *

1 YEAR LATER

Sean: 12 years old  
Stealth: 14 years old

"You bastards are getting so kicked outta here when I rule!" Sean shouted behind him as he ran. "I'm killing off every one of you mother fuckers and dumping you in my river!"

"This way, King," Stealth said quietly. He grabbed Sean's hand and tugged him around a corner. "And please stop shouting. The object is to lose them, not give away our location."

"Let 'em find us!" Sean replied, albeit quieter this time. "They'll be bowing to me and kissing my feet and begging for their lives soon enough."

"Yes, they will," Stealth said. "But today is not your day. There is still work to be done. We still have an army to build, after all."

"When?" Sean asked, still being tugged around. "Haven't I waited long enough? When can we finally start? I feel like we haven't done anything."

"When it's time you'll know," Stealth replied. "You still have some growing up to do."

"Fuck you!" Sean shouted. "I am grown! I've been through more shit than all the people in this city combined!"

"And yet there is still more to go through," Stealth replied quietly.

Sean growled. "Stop talking in riddles. You're always so cryptic. It's probably all that time being locked in that fucking closet."

Stealth cringed. "Can we please not talk about that?" He turned them down another alley.

"Why don't you just leave that rat hole? It's not like they'll miss you. And that closet's really fucking with your head," Sean said. "I know how to get money. We can get our own place."

Stealth narrowed his eyes. "I told you to stop making money like that. That's no way for anyone to live, and no way for you to act. It's beneath you. And I belong where I am. Now is not the time to be taking care of ourselves. That will come later."

Sean rolled his eyes. "There you go again: talking in riddles. It's that god damn closet. Let me take you out of there!"

"My problems are mine to deal with!" Stealth snapped back. He sighed and tugged Sean closer to him. "You are already growing up much too fast. Please, focus on your problems. Soon, you will have a city to run. My problems are inadequate."

"Your problems _are_ my problems," Sean insisted as they took another turn. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Stealth frowned. "Rulers don't have friends, King, only followers. Haven't you realized that yet? Or do you have more growing up to do?"

"I am grown!" Sean shouted. "I just want to be able to take care of you," he muttered.

"You can take care of me as my king," Stealth replied. "But for now you do not yet have the resources necessary to manage it."

Sean frowned as their path was blocked by a chain-linked fence. "I could if you'd let me," he muttered quietly to himself.

"Up here, King," he said, taking them up a fire-escape. "Let's get to the roof." Stealth gave a small smile. "Your determination is wonderful, King. But patience must also come. When the time comes we will have so much to do. Enjoy your rest while you can get it."

"I don't like being patient," Sean said with a pout as he climbed onto the roof. "Especially when I can do everything now if you'd let me."

Stealth held his small smile, deciding not to argue. No one could convince his king of anything. It was one of the reasons he was going to be such a great ruler. Unfortunately, that was also what made it hard for Stealth to babysit. That's not to say he would give up his position, though. No, far from it. He would give up his life for his king.

Sean plopped down on the roof. "How long do we have to stay here?" He looked up at Stealth. "You know how I hate waiting around."

Stealth nodded in agreement. "Our trip will be ending soon, King. I'll take you home as soon as the way's cleared."

"Trip?" Sean asked, standing up again. "What trip? I thought I didn't have to go back! I don't want to! I wanna stay here with you!"

Stealth looked down. He resisted the urge to give Sean a hug; kings didn't need hugs, after all. "Soon," he managed to say. "But first I need to get you home."

Sean pouted, but nodded. He'd refused before and gotten left behind. Stealth was always quick to remind him that he wasn't king yet. It was getting harder and harder to wait though. He wanted a happy life like all the other kids had. He wanted control, god damn it. And he was running out of the patience to wait for it.

Stealth was looking over the edge of the building. He watched the kids they had been running from walk away, clearly giving up the search. He turned to Sean. "It's time." He started back down the fire escape, not bothering to wait. He knew Sean would follow him eventually.

And Sean did, though reluctantly.

The climb down was quiet. Usually Sean was the one who kept up conversation, but he didn't feel up to it. The thought of going back home kept him in a somber mood. He didn't understand. Why did he have to go back? Why did Stealth not want to get away from his son of a bitch parents? He was getting tired of having to wait. And wait for what? He had no idea. But Stealth seemed adamant that he needed to.

They walked back, Stealth walking ahead. When it came time for them to go their separate ways Stealth did so without saying good bye. Sean wasn't flustered; Stealth was never one for pleasantries. Still, he couldn't help thinking that this time was different. He felt like something was wrong, but he didn't bother stopping him.

He sighed as he got closer to his home. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to keep coming here. He was getting fed up with all this waiting. Why couldn't Stealth understand? He was ready to rule now, god damn it.

* * *

6 months Later

Sean: 12

Stealth: 15

Sean sat by his river, smoking a cigarette he had pick-pocketed earlier in the day and drinking a beer he had swiped off a delivery truck. He was sporting a bruise he had gotten for sleeping in the wrong place last night. Ultimately, though, he had won the spot, so it was worth it.

It was a nice spot, too: right by an open vent and with plenty of roof space. It may have even been better than the place Julius lived, especially at this point. Sean hadn't been home for a little over a week now. Julius had smashed his head into the coffee table and threatened to kill him if he ever came back without cocaine again.

He hadn't whored in almost a year, instead robbing cocaine directly from the lower ranked dealers. Of course, that had gotten him into some tight spots, and now there were several areas of Brooklyn he couldn't step foot in under threat of death.

He had long since given up doing anything with his life, assuming he would probably be killed before his twenties anyway, so there wasn't much point in it. Stealth was still insistent that he would one day own Brooklyn, but the way he saw it, Stealth was getting crazier and Sean was becoming more worthless by the day.

Sean didn't look over as someone sat down beside him. He knew it was Stealth, and he was becoming even worse with pleasantries the more the years wore on. More often than not they just sat together in silence; they only talked about what they had to anymore. What were they going to steal today? How were they going to get food to eat? Where was Sean going to sleep?

"It's time for you to go home," Stealth said after several minutes of silence.

Now that was unexpected. Sean finally turned to look at him, trying hard not to become irritated. Stealth very rarely gave reasons for what he said anymore, and Sean had absolutely no desire to ever go back home. "Oh?" he quirked an eyebrow, forcing calm. Anger just turned Stealth off these days. "And, why, exactly is that?"

"It's time to stop sitting around," Stealth answered almost immediately, still staring across the river. "It's time to step up to your place on the throne."

Sean's eyes widened; he knew Stealth still believed him to be future king, but he had never expected a call to action coming from his quiet companion. "And I have to go home for this to happen? There's nothing there for me."

Stealth finally turned to look at him, eyes traveling up and down his body as he remained quiet. "Your future cannot begin until you destroy your past," he finally said.

Sean leaned into him. "Stealth -" he choked and had to clear his throat before he continued. "If I go back there without any coke or money he's going to kill me. He broke the fucking coffee table with my head last time."

Stealth shook his head and he stood up. "You are no longer eight, King, and you are capable of more than you think. If you don't embrace the strength you have then I cannot follow you." He started to walk away before he turned back around. "I will follow you only if you have the will to be followed. Meet me at my house at midnight if you are ready for this to begin."

Sean watched his friend go, closing his mouth only after he had realized that it had dropped open. That was the most Stealth had spoken in years, and he had never been invited to his house before. He only knew where he lived because Stealth had pointed it out to him several months ago. He had told him to never forget, because it was important to their futures.

Was this the future he had been talking about?

Sean took a deep breath before rising up and walking in the direction of the house he had grown up in. He wondered if he should grab a weapon; if he was even meant to physically fight the drug addict. He recognized the very real possibility that Stealth was leading him to his death tonight.

But Sean realized he wasn't much scared of death anymore. He'd die soon anyway, whether he was cautious or boisterous; that was just how it was on the streets. And he didn't much see a difference between thirteen and twenty anyway.

* * *

Sean couldn't help but shake as he creaked open the front door to the house he had once lived in. It was humid, dark, and smelled like spoiled milk; exactly as he had left it, then.

"Julius?" he whispered as he crept into the dark house. He could hear his heartbeat as he waited without breathing for a response. "Julius?" he asked a bit louder. He bit his lip, trying to dare not hope that Julius had somehow disappeared. Maybe he wouldn't have to see him. "Julius? Are you home?" Maybe he could just meet Stealth at his place and they could continue whatever it was they were supposed to be doing. Maybe he wouldn't ever have to confront Julius.

"Baby brother?" a boy rasped from the couch. "Thank god. Thank god for you, Sean."

Sean saw the pile of dirty clothes moving on the couch and immediately froze up, his mind spinning around in circles. As the stooped figure came closer his thoughts turned faster.

_This was it. He was going to die. Die right in this shitbag of an apartment. And there would be no one around to look for him. His body would probably be decayed before another hoodrat broke in and stumbled upon his bones. And there was nothing surprising about that. Isn't that the way he always thought he'd go? Maybe not by his brother's hand, but by someone else's. Dead and forgotten, didn't he know that was his fate? There wasn't a reason to be afraid. No one would miss him. No one would care._

"I know I could count on you," his brother said, now just a foot away.

_Within punching distance_ was the thought that broke through the others. _He's going to punch me, and then I'm going down, and then I'll be dead._

"Sean!" Julius spit at him, though not unkindly. Not yet. He shook him by the shoulders. "Where is it, bud? C'mon, brother, where'd you put it?" He didn't wait for a response as he started patting down Sean's pockets.

Sean let him, still too frozen to think of something to say. He was still too afraid to break his brother's optimism. Didn't know how to. He had never done a good job of standing up to himself when it came to his brother. Had always had a difficult time saying no or expressing his opinions. It was all his brother all the time.

"I knew I could count on you," Julius mumbled, now moving on to pat Sean's jacket. "I knew you wouldn't forget about me. Knew you were just looking to get more medicine. I'm really sick, Sean. I feel like it's been days. I need it. I need it so bad. Where'd you hide it, buddy? Where is it?"

Sean's whole body shook as he prepared himself for death. He breathed out a long sigh and clenched his fists together, driving out all the worry. He didn't have much to live for anyway. "I don't have any," he replied, secretly amazed that his voice came out hard and firm. "I just came to get my stuff. I'm leaving this -"

Sean swung across the room as the anticipated punch made contact with his nose. His brother no longer stooped or weak looking. Insead, his back was rigid and his eyes were fierce. Sean couldn't so much as lift his head before his brother was on him.

"What the fuck do you mean you don't have any?" Julius screamed from on top of him, was punches raining down on anything they could touch. "You fucking piece of fucking shit! Who the fuck's house do you think you're in? I fucking support your nasty ass, waste of space, whore cock, and for what? Huh? What, you fucking piece of trash? Why am I fucking supporting you when you can't even do one fucking thing right? When you can't even fucking help me out a little bit! I'm fucking dying, Sean! I'm fucking dying, but all you fucking care about is yourself! You don't give a fuck! You don't give a fuck enough to help!"

He forced Sean's head up by the collar of his shirt just to slam it down to the concrete underneath them. "Where the fuck you gonna go, huh? Who the fuck do you think wants you?"

All Sean heard was a ringing in his ears, oblivious to the insults that were being shouted at him. He no longer felt the punches that he knew were still coming at him. He wasn't scared anymore. He was at peace with his death. And he felt strangely calm as he anticipated it.

He blinked as he was slapped, the world coming into focus as he looked at his brother, still on top of him shouting.

"Did you hear me, ya brain dead fuck?"

He blinked some more, everything seeming too distant. Too far away. His brother's voice was murmured, like it wasn't really there. Is this what death felt like? If so, it wasn't so much better than life.

"I said get the fuck up and start making some money with that pathetic ass of yours!"

Julius went to slap him again, but Sean caught his hand before it could come into contact with his face.

Everything was tilted and blurry, and it sounded as if Sean was underwater. He couldn't think straight. Didn't know if he was alive or dead or dreaming, but wherever he was, whether in the apartment, in his head, or in some form of hell, he was done being thrown around.

He head butted his brother, not even feeling the pain of his new bruises as Julius stumbled backwards. He picked an astray off a stack phonebooks and advanced, not pausing to think as he smashed it across the side of his brother's face. Sean didn't hesitate to get on top of him as he fell down. He didn't see his terrified face as he put his hands around his neck and pressed as hard as he could against the windpipe. He held against Julius's struggles, his face blank as he watched the life drain from him.

Sean finally spoke as the flailing faded and his brother's eyes rolled back. "You were dead ages ago. Good riddance." He spit on Julius's face before stumbling to get up. He had to get to Stealth's house.

* * *

Stealth sat outside his house with backpack in hand. It was thirty minutes to midnight, but he knew Sean would be coming for him soon. He had to, because if he didn't come that would mean the fight was lost before it even began, and Stealth would be left without a path to walk on.

He clenched at one of the straps at his shoulder and fumbled with the empty gasoline container with his other hand, hoping that he had put his faith in the right king. There were other potentials, the silence had told him that much, but he had picked Sean without the help of the silence. He wanted to be right about him. Still, there was a lot riding on this, and whether Sean showed up or not Stealth would have to leave.

He looked back on his home, wondering if he would miss it. From the outside it looked peaceful. It was small, but it wasn't like Sean's home. It had all its windows, no peeling paint, a door bell that worked, a cut lawn, and even a white picket fence. There was no cement coming up in the driveway and no trash on the front lawn.

Just because the outward appearance looked pretty and untouched and perfect didn't mean the people inside were, however.

Stealth touched his cheek from where his mother had slapped him as soon as he had gotten home. He was late to make dinner. He hadn't planned to be, but it seemed they were hungry earlier today than normal. He was glad they had waited for him though. He didn't know how else to slip them sleeping pills except in their food, and he'd take a slap over a missed opportunity anyday.

He looked up as he heard footsteps coming towards him. "Found it okay, then?" he asked, knowing it was Sean, but still dreading it if he was wrong.

"I always knew you lived in a rich kid's house," a gruff voice answered back.

Sean finally hit a streetlight so he could see him. He had a worn backpack slung over one shoulder that looked empty, and his face was a smattering of bruises.

Stealth shrugged. "Things okay on your end?"

Sean shrugged back. "As well as could be expected. But I assume you already knew that." He glanced at the red container down at Stealth's feet before looking back up to him. "I take it I'm here to get rid of _your_ past, too?"

Stealth shrugged again. "The can's empty. My parents are inside sleeping. They won't wake up."

Sean returned the shrug, still not sure if this was a dream or hell. Whatever it was it couldn't be real. He took his lighter out of his pocket and picked up a piece of newspaper gently breezing across the sidewalk. This whole experience was starting to make some semblance of sense to him. "If you cannot save yourself then I will be the one to do it for you," he decided, looking towards Stealth for some seconds. He folded the newspaper into a paper airplane before setting its tail on fire and throwing it softly towards the house. It landed on the front porch and a small fire immediately flew up, quickly heading towards the door and consuming it.

Sean turned away and set off in the direction he had come in. "Come. We have work to do."

Stealth spared his home another glance, already half consumed in flames. A grin split across his face as he looked back at Sean. "Yes, my king," he murmured before throwing the gasoline container towards the house and walking quickly to follow.

* * *

TBC


	2. Slingshot or How Sean Became Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot and Slingshot's first meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty short, especially considering the usual length of my chapters in this collection. I'll try to post the next chapter soon to make up for it. Thanks for reading!

 

Sean: Age 13  
Stealth: Age 15

Sean crunched into a sandwich he had blatantly stolen from a gas station attendant who had been too much of a pussy to stop him. He threw the second sandwich he had pocketed at Stealth.

They were on a roof overlooking an area of Brooklyn Sean technically wasn't allowed in anymore. Turns out that several months ago the low rung pissant he had stolen an ounce of coke from was actually the gang leader's nephew. Whoops.

Now said pissant had a hand that would probably never be able to write again, and Sean's curiosities about why an idiot would be carrying around that much cocaine were explained.

He had felt a bit bad about it, honestly, or at least he had when it first happened. He didn't really feel bad about anything anymore. He supposed killing people would do that to you.

He looked over to Stealth. He was looking over the railing, but was low enough so he wouldn't be seen from the ground. Stealth was an excellent look out, but a horrible scouter. He had gotten a lot quieter since Sean had burned his parents alive. Now, Stealth didn't do much but shake his head and point. Not very conducive when you were trying to figure out the schedules of your enemies.

It left Sean with some very quiet days, but he supposed that was okay. He didn't have much to talk about anyway. And he could understand why it would be hard to talk to a person who had murdered your parents, even if Stealth had laid everything out for him to do so.

Unfortunately, he could have really used Stealth's voice. While Stealth was magnificent at watching and waiting, Sean wasn't, and that's exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

He crawled over to the edge when he was finished with his sandwich, matching Stealth's stance. There were four people down below, but none of them seemed to hold a significance over the others. They all seemed relatively young. "Any of them him?" Sean asked quietly, glancing at Stealth.

Stealth just shook his head.

Sean sighed. Three days of slinking around on rooftops and they were no closer to knowing who the leader of this particular gang was or where to find him than when they first started. "We sure those guys are his though?"

Stealth nodded, not taking his eyes off them.

"Okay," Sean replied, standing up. "I'm tired of this. I'll find out who he is." He lept from the rooftop onto the fire escape, then jumped over the railing so he could slide down it, falling just a few feet away from the group of four. He glanced up at the rooftop, but couldn't see any sign of Stealth. Well, Sean did give him his name for a reason.

"Hiya," Sean greeted the wide eyed quartet with a smirk. "I'm looking for your piece of shit boss. Know where I can find him?"

Three of the four immediately took defensive stances as the fourth stepped in front of them. All eyes were narrowed in on Sean.

"Our boss doesn't meet with just anyone," the one who stepped up answered. "What's your business with him?"

Sean smirked as he took a step forward so he was squared up with the person who had answered him. "I can show you," he offered, before rearing back and clocking the boy right in the jaw.

The boy went down as two of the others surged forward.

Sean threw out a kick that landed across one boy's ribs. The second boy took the opportunity to punch Sean in the eye, but instead of going down Sean took possession of his arm. He swung the boy around and jerked backwards on the elbow, hearing a crack as the boy screamed in pain. The boy he kicked in the ribs was getting up at this point, so he took two quick steps towards him and smashed his foot down on his skull.

The only boy left was pressed against the wall of the closest building, looking at him with wide eyes. He looked at the other boys, two unmoving and the other writhing in pain. "I-I don't want to fight you. I-I can help you. Please."

Sean tilted his chin up and glanced down at the boy. "Take me to your boss," he demanded with crossed arms.

The boy shook his head. "I-I … I can't," he sniffled. "Not that I don't want to!" he yelped, his arms in front of his face as soon as Sean took a step towards him. "I'm just low rung. I've never met the boss. And there's no way he'd see me."

Sean bit back a growl. No wonder the fight had been so easy, if all these pieces of shit didn't mean anything. "What the fuck good are you then?"

The boy's eyes widened even more. "I-I can help you find him. I've heard of places he hangs out. I know who he meets with, and the higher ups you can take out to get to him. I hear things, you know. I can help."

Sean's eyes narrowed. He wasn't one to trust people, let alone someone who would so easily roll over on their gang.

"I-I never wanted to be here in the first place," the boy rambled, as if he knew Sean's thoughts. "My parents kicked me out, and I didn't have any place to go. This was my only option. Please. I don't like it here. I promise I don't. I just don't know what else to do."

"Stealth," Sean said, never raising his voice. "What do you think?"

Stealth was jumping from the railing of the fire escape and by his side within seconds. He looked between them both before shrugging and nodding his head to Sean.

"Fine," Sean answered back before looking at the second member of his new gang. "C'mon, Abortion Boy, not like you can go back to this gang after your friends heard you turn over on your boss."

Sean climbed back up the fire escape, Stealth following quickly behind as the other boy stood still. "Keep up, Abortion, or we'll leave your ass behind. And you old boss'll have you dead by morning."

The other boy quickly nodded as he stumbled after them, clearly not used to climbing on top of roofs. "Abortion? C-can I …? I mean, my name's Trevor. You can call me Trevor," he huffed, having a difficult time climbing the rails of the fire escape.

Stealth offered him a hand, but didn't say anything.

"Shut the fuck up, Abortion," Sean said, easily leaping to the next roof. "You'll go by whatever the fuck I decide to call you." He looked over his shoulder towards Stealth. "Thanks for the help over there, by the way," he said sarcastically.

Stealth just shrugged back, not looking perturbed in the slightest. "Didn't seem like you needed it, King," he finally said when Sean kept staring at him.

* * *

Sean snarled as he stood pacing outside of the building they had been staying at.

The building had sustained an enormous amount of fire damage, and Abortion had complained that it was probably going to come crashing down on them. It _was_ condemned, he had pointed out multiple times since they had found it. Sean rolled his eyes; that kid really fucking annoyed him. Still, he did kind of need the stupid brat, even if it had been three days and no progress was being made.

Sean growled, and shook out a cigarette from his pack, trying to force himself to get calm before he shoved Abortion's head through a fucking wall.

Unfortunately, fucking Abortion didn't know what was good for him.

"Heya, King," he greeted, sticking his head out the window and the only entrance into their building. "I thought I heard you out here. I made dinner. Stealth's still looking at a wall. Are you sure he's okay? He hasn't moved since we found this place. I don't think he's eaten either."

Sean flicked his cigarette at him, scaring him back inside. Sean lept in after him, taking two quick steps over to him and smacking Abortion on the back of the head. Looking at him with his pussy ass wide eyes and fucking opened mouth made him want to do more, but he resisted, clenching his fists and gnashing his teeth instead.  "If I'm outside it means I'm trying to stop myself from ripping out your large intestine and strangling you with it," he bit out. "Don't fucking interrupt me. Don't fucking worry about Stealth. And the next time you give me a wrong fucking location for your boss I'm going to rip out every single one of your nails and shove them into your eyes."

"And you."  Sean turned onto Stealth, taking quick steps towards him and pulling him up by the short collar. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? You in mourning or some shit? Because I don't have time for that shit."  

Sean released the shirt collar as Stealth stood and looked at him with a blank face. Then he sighed. "What would you like me to do, King?" Stealth asked quietly.

"I need this fucking guy, Stealth," Sean replied, now pacing around the small room. "You'd think after beating up his underlings he'd be coming after me, but he's fucking not. I need to find him. Or at least find the right people to crush so he'll come out of hiding."

"You want his position?" Stealth asked calmly.

Sean nodded without hesitation. "I want to destroy his position. One take down and half of Brooklyn is open territory. After that moving in on the others won't be hard at all."

"You don't know much about patience, do you?" Stealth asked, arms pulled behind his back as he watched Sean move quickly about the room.

Sean stopped and immediately swung around to meet Stealth's eyes. "I'm doing everything exactly like you wanted!" he snapped. "What the fuck else do you want from me?"

Stealth shook his head, still not moving. "It's never been about me, King."

Sean wanted to shake him. "What the fuck are you on about? You're the reason we're doing this! You're the one that made me-" He growled as he cut himself off mid sentence and flashed a look over to Abortion. "I'm getting fucking sick of this waiting around shit," he decided to say instead.

"He should be at the Southern Cafe around ten tomorrow morning," Stealth finally said.

"You've been scouting on your own?" Sean asked, trying his best to seem disapproving despite the fact that it was exactly what he had wanted.

Stealth shook his head and pointed towards the boarded up front door. "He left a note. He's expecting you."

"Oh." Sean blinked, all his anger draining out of him. He should've seen that note; he had been outside long enough. He had been too pissed to notice anything; that was something he would have to work on. "Well," he shrugged, "That works just fine for me."

Abortion stepped beside him, shaking his head. "Boss doesn't work like that, King. He's not going to just be waiting for you in a coffee shop. He's planning on ambushing you. He'll put snipers outside, and force you to do whatever he wants or shoot you dead. He's done it before."

Sean crossed his arms and lifted up his chin. "I can take care of myself. So far all of his guys have been jokes. I've got nothing to worry about."

"You're going to get yourself killed," Abortion yelled, his arms flailing.  He turned towards Stealth.  "And you're just going to let it happen?  He'll listen to you if you tell him not to go. And I know you think it's a bad idea."

Stealth just shrugged.

"Shut the fuck up, Abortion Boy. I'll be fine," Sean demanded, strolling over to the room that had once been a kitchen. "What's for fucking dinner anyway?"

* * *

So it turned out the guys in the inner circle were a little bit tougher than Sean had anticipated. He could admit that as he kneeled on the ground, his left eye completely blind from where the pistol that was now nuzzled against the back of his head had hit hit him. He glanced around at the ten henchmen all surrounding him, mentally adding that there were two behind him. He probably wasn't getting out of this one.

He always seemed to get a clearer head right before death. He'd been dodging it for a long time, and found he could accept it even faster than he had when Julius was trying to kill him. Maybe it was because he didn't know the person who was ready to pull the trigger at a moment's notice, or maybe these things got easier the more you did them.

He looked at the "boss", a middle aged man, with a big belly and an even bigger head. As accepting as Sean was with his death, it put a bad taste in his mouth to think that it would be this man to put him down.

"Kids are always so hot headed," the man lectured as he laughed. "And with hotheadedness comes stupidity. You really think I'd want to sit around and talk to a menace like you? After you ruined my nephew's future? After you tried to decimate my runners? My ground crew?"

He knelt down next to Sean and grabbed his face, pressing in his cheeks and forcing him out of his glare. "I'm going to make you suffer, boy. Then I'm going to teach you some obedience." He smirked as he released Sean's face and stood back up. "Tie up his hands," he demanded of the person who was behind Sean. "Don't hesitate to break a finger if he resists, but don't kill him."

Sean smirked as his hands were pulled behind his back. "You don't deal with many menaces, do you? We don't scare easily," he said, leaping up and spinning around as soon as the gun was no longer against his head. He thrust his palm against the guy's nose and sent him down before jumping at the next guy closest to him.

"Shoot him!" the boss demanded, backing up as his guys surged forwards. "Shoot him, but don't kill him! He'll pay for what he did! I'll make sure of it. Get him, you imbeciles!"

Sean whipped the gun out of one lackey's hands and smacked him across the face with it before swinging at someone else's neck. He heard gunshots and then felt his right leg flame up with heat, but he kept going. He ducked a fist before swinging the barrel of the gun up and into the person's chin.

He had never shot a gun, and though it was something he would probably have to rectify, he was still finding it a very effective weapon when it came to bringing down his enemies. His right leg made moving painful, but he didn't let it slow him down too much. He was running on pure adrenaline. "I may be hot headed, but you're an idiot for not killing me when you had the chance," he growled.

There were only three left to dispose of before he would be alone with the boss; everyone else was strewn across the floor, either moaning in pain or unconscious. Some dead if Sean let himself be optimistic.

He quickly dislodged the gun one was holding and smashed him across the face with the hilt of his. Then he went down as one of the other two took the the opportunity to kick his leg right where the bullet had shot through.

Sean grunted, dropping his gun and clutching at his leg, trying not to scream as he immediately tried to stand. His leg gave out as the other guy pressed his foot onto his back.

The gang's boss immediately grinned and moved forward, kicking Sean hard in the ribs as soon as he was close enough. "Grab him, both of you," he demanded of the only two left of his people. "Force him up. I want him standing has he admits his insolence."

Sean just glared as he was forced to his feet, making himself put as much weight as he could on his bad leg in an act of defiance. He looked at the guy on his right out of the corner of his eye, sizing him up. He couldn't hope to see the man on his left; his sight was completely gone from that eye thanks to all the swelling.

"Exactly what is it you were trying to do?" the boss asked as he paced in front of Sean. "You were going to come here, take down all my personal all by yourself, and then what? Kill me and take over? Assume that my people would instantly become loyal to you after you broke a few legs?" He snorted. "You are short sighted as well as a failure. Loyalty isn't bred over night, and my men do not sway easily."

"Do they not?" Sean asked, following the man's movements. "That's odd. How could I have known where to find your men if at _least_ one hadn't turned on you?"

"Kick his leg," the boss snapped to the man on Sean's right.

"Fuck!" Sean grunted in pain as he immediately went down, his leg giving out from under him, his arms still held up enough so that he didn't take a tumble onto the floor. He stood up quickly, but winced as soon as he tried to put his wounded leg down.

The boss just smirked at him. "You'll learn to watch what you say in time. I know what it takes to tame a wild beast. You'll learn some manners, and some respect."

"Fuck your manners," Sean replied as the man to his right suddenly went down. He spent no time thinking about his blind luck, instantly putting all his weight on his left foot and swinging to punch the mysterious man on his right in the jaw.

As it happened, mysterious guy was a lot taller than Sean had anticipated, and he ended up making a mad swing at his chest instead. He slid to the floor as he tried to dodge a punch by leaning onto his right leg.

The man didn't waste anytime kicking him in the rib cage before Sean hooked his arm around the back of his knee, pulling the guy on top of him. He took the opportunity to slam an elbow onto his back before punching him hard in the back of the head.

Sean rolled him off him as soon as he didn't feel any movement. He spotted the boss running towards the door, and tried his best to stand up fast, just to fall right back to the floor. "Fuck. Damn it," he muttered to himself. Finally clutching right above the bullet wound, surprised he hadn't noticed all the blood until now.

"You aren't leaving the party already, are you, Boss?" Abortion asked, a slingshot in his hand pointed directly at the older man's head.

The man stopped dead in his tracks and backed up two paces. "You … You're one of mine?" he asked, confusion written all over his face as he eyed the weapon in the boy's hands.

"Was," Abortion answered with a smirk. "I'm the one that turned over." He unleashed the pebble that he was holding against his slingshot, hitting the man square between the eyes and effectively bringing him down.

"Easy there, King," Stealth advised, suddenly right beside Sean and wrapping his leg tight with the torn off sleeve of his shirt.

"Slingshot, huh?" Sean asked, not even sparing a glance at Stealth, but letting his hands off the leg that the other boy was working on. "I'm glad you can actually do something impressive."

Abortion crossed his arms. "I also know when not to go running into a situation that is clearly an ambush and a close-mouthed vet that can take care of that bullet wound for you."

Sean rolled his eyes as Stealth helped him up. "Point taken, Slingshot," he replied, giving no other hint at the boy's new nickname. "Let's kill this ass fuck," he advised, nodded his head towards the old man, "And then you can introduce me to this vet friend of yours."

* * *

Sean walked through the door of his building before sinking onto the sagging couch that was sitting against the wall at the entrance.

This building had been Slingshot's doing, but Sean was the one who brought the couch. It was small and cramped, but that was all well and good for Sean. Slingshot kept trying to bring in boys, and Sean was looking forward to the excuse that they didn't have enough room.

"What the hell did you do now?" Slingshot asked, striding over to the couch with a rag and a bucket of warm water. "Turn over," he demanded as he crouched down. "Lemme see your face; that's where you always manage to get hurt."

"Jesus," Slingshot breathed as he finally got a good look at his king's face. "What the hell did you do to your face _this_ time?"

Sean was sporting a black eye that ran past his cheek bone. The opposite side of his face held a cut on his lip and another bruise on his chin. "This is the price for being king," he said, chin raised high with a maniacal glint in his eye.

Slingshot just rolled his eyes as he started wiping off blood. "Why's it always the eye, huh? Don't understand why people call you 'King' when they could call you 'Spot' instead, with how much you walk around with at least one black eye."

"Shut the fuck up, Abortion," Sean demanded, slipping into the old nickname with no real bite.

"My pleasure, _Spot_ ," Slingshot returned, trying but failing to hide his smirk.

TBC

 


	3. Bam or How Spot Received Loyal Followers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot gets into even more trouble as he struggles to officially recruit his first member.

 

Sean: Age 13  
Slingshot: Age 14  
Stealth: Age 15

"I heard he was impressive. Took down the old leader at the Bronx without any problems at all," Slingshot bragged as he walked down the street with Sean and Stealth. "He sounds a lot like you, Spot: ruthless and quick."

"I'm not ruthless," Sean muttered, hands in his pockets as he sported a bruise over his left eye: a look that was becoming all too common. He shot a look over at Stealth when he heard the snort. "Shut up, you," he demanded with a scowl before looking in front of him again.

"Stealth doesn't do anything _but_ shut up," Slingshot replied back, hands laced behind his head as he smirked at his boss. "And just yesterday you broke a kid's nose for calling you short. Is there something you would call that other than ruthless?"

"You can shut the fuck up, too," Sean snapped at him.

Slingshot's smile widened as he laughed. "Just because you haven't grown an inch since you've been eleven is no reason to be taking it out on your members. You're going to completely stomp on everyone's loyalty if you keep acting like this."

Sean rolled his eyes. "They're fucking worthless anyway," he grumbled.

Slingshot sighed. "You need to go out of your way to learn who they are. You can utilize their talents, but you've gotta know what those talents are first."

"Sounds fucking boring," Sean replied back, kicking a dented can that was in front of him on the sidewalk. "You can do that part."

"So, what? I'm just fucking running things now, am I?" Slingshot asked, his arms crossed as he stopped walking.

"Fuck no," Sean returned, stopping as well and turning around to face him. "It's my fucking gang. You can be my second."

"Second-in-Command?" he asked, eyes wide as he looked towards Stealth.

Stealth just shrugged at him.

A grunt from the alleyway interrupted whatever else there was to be said.

Sean immediately perked up, recognizing the sounds of a possible fight and happy to put himself in the middle of it.

"Oh, c'mon!" Slingshot called after him as Sean sprinted toward the sound. "One black eye isn't enough anymore?" he turned to ask Stealth.

Stealth just shrugged again before jogging to follow his boss.

Slingshot looked up. "How the fuck did I get mixed up in this?" he groaned at the sky before following after them.

Sean was hardly a gang leader. He barely gave thought to the people that supposedly followed him. Anytime Slingshot would mention a new recruit he would get pissy, complaining about having no room and having more worthless mouths to feed. His fights for territory seemed sporadic at best, and as of yet he had never guarded against any or his territory being over run by another gang. As far as the other gangs in town were concerned, Sean was a joke; the only thing worth fearing were his fighting skills. Fortunately, the other gangs stopped asking him to join up with them after he had broken the last messenger's leg.

Slingshot sighed as he stepped into the alley, quickly assessing the damage. Two men on the ground and a shirtless little boy, quickly buttoning his pants. He quirked his eyebrow up, looking at Sean, who was still busy kicking one of the men in the ribs. "Preventing rape, now, huh?"

"It wasn't fucking rape," the little boy bit out, shoving Stealth away who was trying to help him up. "It was fucking business. That _you_ interrupted."

At this point Sean was going through the pockets of both unconscious men, which was not an unusual thing. It did require a bit of money to feed everyone, after all, not that Sean worked that hard to _get_ money, nor did it seem like he let it concern him. Slingshot was pretty sure the whole gang thing was just an excuse to go running around town beating other people up.

"Jesus," Slingshot muttered, finally turning away from Sean and crouching by the kid. "You're way too young for that kind of talk. Where are your parents? Surely they must be wondering where you are?"

When Slingshot leaned forward to brush some hair off of his forehead the kid spit on him. "I'm not a fucking little kid," he snapped. "I'm almost thirteen, and I know what I'm fucking doing, so you fucktards can leave me alone."

Sean walked up and looked down on them, his smirk widening as he looked at Slingshot wiping off the spit. "I like him. Who you working for, whore?"

"I'm not a fucking whore either!" the kid snapped, jerking and standing up. "I'm just doing this before I get my promotion. I'm in the biggest gang in New York City." He crossed his arms. "And I've heard of _you_ ," he continued, looking towards Sean. "Spot," he growled. "You're a fucking menace. Worse than cops when it comes to fucking up the gangs around here. We're looking for you, jackass. And we're going to put an end to you. You can't terrify everyone, you know."

"Oh?" Sean asked, shooting a dark look at Slingshot before turning to the boy and picking up his smirk again. "I look forward to meeting with them." He took a step forward, pushing the other boy into the wall. "Should I make an example out of you? Speed up the progress?"

The boy didn't waiver, instead clenching his teeth and shooting the two men on the ground a quick look. "You've already got two examples," he explained.

"So those fucktards are your brothers, huh?" Sean replied. "So you aren't in this for the money, you just like getting fucked in alleyways," Sean guessed, knowing services passing between members in the same gang very rarely ever involved money.

The boy crossed his arms and tilted his chin up. "There are other things than just money," he spit out. "Shit you wouldn't know anything about."

"You don't think I know about crack?" Sean asked, taking a bag of white clumps out of his pocket and holding it out. He snorted as the boy's eyes grew wide. "This shit all it take to turn you into a whore? Let's see it then."

The boy forcibly calmed his features, but his eyes didn't leave the bag in Sean's hand. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Sean's smirk finally dropped, and he stuffed the bag into his pocket and made a step towards the boy so they were chest to chest with each other. "I'm talking about getting back on your fucking knees and sucking my dick, you slut."

The boy visibly twitched as he bared his teeth.

"Sean!" Slingshot burst out, about to surge forward before Stealth grabbed his shoulder and shook his head at him.

"That's the business I interrupted, right? Or were you going to let them fuck you?" Sean crossed his arms but didn't back away. "If you wanna spread your legs I'll take that too." He looked the other boy up and down. "As long as you aren't too loose anyway."

"You fucking bastard," the boy snapped. He tried to spit at Sean, but it was easily dodged. The slap across the boy's face easily echoed in the alleyway.

"Think you're hot shit?" Sean asked. "You should be glad you're just a bitch, otherwise I wouldn't hesitate to make you worse off than your brothers over there." He shot a look to the other men, still not moving. "I was just offering what you wanted." Sean finally took a few steps back before turning around. "Tell your boss I'll be looking forward to meeting him," he said before walking off, Slingshot and Stealth not hesitating to follow.

"Wait!" the boy called out. He bowed his head as all three turned to look at him. "P-p-please," he stuttered before clenching both fists and breathing out a sigh. "You can't leave with that," he said, looking Sean in the eyes as he furrowed his brows.

Sean snorted before advancing a few steps towards him. "You gonna try to fight me, kid? If you've heard of me then you should know what I can do to you." He shrugged as he dropped his arms. "But, sure, if you wanna fight I can give you a fight."

"Not a fight," the boy replied, shaking his head and cocking out a hip. He smoothed his face over and smiled at Sean. "You want my body, right? It's all yours." His face darkened slightly as he looked towards Sean's pocket. "But I want all of that. No skimping. Boss knows exactly how much is there."

Sean shrugged. "Whether you take it back to your boss or do it all yourself it's all the same to me." He smirked as he walked back up to the boy. "All I want is your mouth, after all."

The boy nodded before sighing and kneeling on the cement beneath him. He glared up at Sean as he put his hands behind his back.

Sean looked down on him for a few seconds before taking some steps backward. "Nah, you're not that pretty up close. Definitely not worth the money I can get for this," he said, patting his pocket.

"You-you fucking bastard!" the boy yelled, jerking straight up

"Sorry, whore, no deal," Sean replied back, wasting no time in walking down the alley and back onto the main road. Slingshot and Stealth hurried to catch up.

"Jesus, Spot, what the fuck was that?" Slingshot asked quietly. He heard the kid's cursing and shot a look behind his back to see him landing some punches into the building.

"I can't believe your stupid nickname for me has already gotten around," Sean growled. He stuffed his hands in his pockets before pulling out the crack. "How much money you think we can make off this shit?"

"I think we've got a lot more to worry about than just money right now, Spot," Slingshot snapped as he grabbed the bag and stuffed it into his own pocket. "Not only did you steal this from a pretty well known gang leader, you also managed to fuck up two of his guys and ridicule one of his prostitutes. Please tell me there was a fucking reason for that besides just getting your rocks off."

"I _didn't_ get my rocks off, if you'll remember," Sean retorted with a smirk.

Slingshot smacked him in the back of the head. "This is no time for stupid jokes. You don't think someone's going to shoot you again? Eventually we're going to run into something we can't handle. And going around fucking people up is a surefire way to make sure you aren't around very long."

"Who the fuck cares about how long I'm around?" Sean muttered. Stealth frowned at him, but Slingshot continued as if he hadn't heard.

"And you don't mess with people's prostitutes like that, Spot! It's just not done. That's as big of an insult as what you did to his boys. You aren't supposed to fuck a leader's prostitute without making arrangements with the pimp first. Fuck."

"I wasn't trying to fuck," Sean replied. "I was trying to get head. Huge difference."

Slingshot grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around and look at him. "Just what the fuck is wrong with you, huh? What is it you're trying to do? Because it looks like all you're doing is running around and fucking shit up for other people."

Sean cocked his head, not bothering to break Slingshot's hold on him. "What's your point?"

"What's my point?" Slingshot yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. "What the fuck do you mean 'what's my point'?" He started pacing. "What happened to all this 'King of Brooklyn' crap then? This isn't how you build a fucking gang! You two idiots don't know what the fuck you're doing!"

Sean crossed his arms and frowned. "I know exactly what I'm doing, Sling. I'm causing anarchy."

Slingshot smacked the front of his head as he sighed. "Jesus, I hope your kidding. And what the fuck good is anarchy going to do you, Spot?"

"Anarchy is the end of an old structure and the beginning of a new one," Stealth replied calmly, Sean nodding along with him.

Slingshot just sighed and shook his head, finally deciding to start moving again as he walked up the street, confident Stealth and Spot were following him. "You guys have private talks while I'm sleeping or something? Next time fill me in on your stupid plans. If you're trying to create anarchy then I'll stop trying to recruit people."

"I wanna recruit the prostitute," Sean replied by Slingshot's right elbow.

"Thought you might," Stealth replied from Slingshot's left side.

Slingshot smacked himself in the forehead again. "You've gotta fill me in on these fucking silent conversations of yours. What the fuck are we going to do with a prostitute?"

"I like him," Sean replied, walking past Slingshot to jump onto a dumpster, which gave him access to a fire escape. "And I want him."

"Well, you certainly did a wonderful job of getting him to like you back," Slingshot growled, following up the fire escape after Stealth. "He'll be sure to drop his gang any minute after the warm welcome you gave him."

"Tests," Stealth said before swinging himself up to the roof.

"Gotta know what the little whore's made of," Sean replied with a smirk.

"How the fuck did I even get roped into this crazy fucking shit?"

* * *

Slingshot sighed as he came home to only Stealth for the fifth time in as many days. He threw the loaf of bread he had gotten onto their scratched up kitchen table before sinking onto their moldy couch. He rubbed his eyes with one hand. "I take it Sean's bothering that prostitute again?"

Stealth shrugged before nodding, crossing the room to steal some of the bread.

"I wish you'd get him to be more careful. He's going to fucking die," Slingshot sighed. "All it takes is for that prostitute to tell his boss Spot keeps bothering him, and then Sean'll be sniped before he knows what hit him." He got up, walking over to the table to get some bread for himself. "These gangs aren't jokes. You guys know that, right?"

"They are," Stealth replied. "You just need to know their weak points." He took a bite of bread and swallowed before continuing. "Spot's always been good at finding weak points."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Slingshot replied, stuffing some bread into his mouth as well. He didn't bother swallowing before he replied. "Seems to me Spot's just developing an infatuation with this kid. He's been out with him every night this week. The kid's cute enough, I guess, but gay gang leaders stick around even less than hooligans."

Stealth gave a small smile as he looked down. "Hooligans, huh? King would like that." He wrapped the bread back up and stuffed it in his pocket as he started heading to the door.

"Both of you suck at listening," Slingshot complained as he followed. "No hooligans have a chance of leading anything. And gay hooligans have even less of a chance."

"That's why we're rewriting things," Stealth explained, quickly hopping on the dumpster by their front door and swinging himself onto the above rooftop.

Slingshot sighed before copying his moves, albeit a lot more slowly. "You can't just change things that easily. People need time. You're not going to suddenly start turning gangs compassionate about fags."

"Violence trumps compassion," Stealth replied, looking around him for a few seconds before shooting off towards his right.

Slingshot groaned before running after him. "Well, we both know Spot has fucking plenty of that, don't we?"

He had a stitch in his side and was gasping for breath by the time that he finally caught up to Stealth. He quirked up an eyebrow at his hunched figure leaning over the rooftop before walking over and assuming the same position.

He heard Sean's laughter before the scene below him started to make some sort of sense. Sean was easily dodging all the prostitute's furious punches, a smile on his face as he danced around.

"You're going to have a hell of a time killing me if this is all you can do," Sean told him as he jumped to his right to avoid an upper cut. "You're predictable and slow."

"Shut the fuck up, you sick fuck," the prostitute shouted between gasps of breath. "It's your fault I look like this. It's your fault I don't have a gang to protect me. And it's your fucking fault I won't be able to get any business for weeks. You fucked me."

Slingshot finally took his eyes off the unbelievable image of a laughing Spot to look at the other boy. His face was definitely fucked up. Both eyes were black, one of his cheeks were swollen, and he had hand prints on his neck. "You think fucking Spot did all that?" he asked quietly and with wide eyes as he glanced over at a smiling Stealth.

"I didn't fuck you," Sean answered as he dodged another punch. "I didn't think you were pretty enough, remember?"

Stealth had yet to acknowledge his question, and looking at a smiling Stealth might have been creeping him out even more than a smiling Spot, so Slingshot was content to turn back to whatever the fuck it was that was happening below them.

Their boss had moved in close, both of the other boy's fists enclosed in Sean's hands. "You are prettier now though. If you looked like this before it would have been well worth all that crack. I wonder if I can track it back down." His head snapped back as the boy tried to bite his nose. "Watch it, Whore," Sean laughed, kicking the boy's leg and letting go of his hands, letting him fall on his back.

"My name's fucking Andrew, for the millionth fucking time!" he yelled, leaping back up. "And don't fucking call me pretty!"

Sean just laughed louder this time, leaping backwards to avoid the boy's fist.

"Alright, playtime's over, kiddies," Slingshot announced, dropping down from the roof. He turned to look at Sean, crossing his arms. "It might be wise to start thinking about what you're going to do when this gang leader finds you. I've been looking into it; he's not exactly looking to fight fair."

Sean crossed his arms right back, his smile had fallen as soon as he realized they had an audience. "I already know what I'm planning to do, Sling: kick his fucking ass. I don't need more of a plan than that."

"If you're trying to recruit," Stealth interrupted, suddenly behind Slingshot. He shot a look to Andrew before throwing him the bread Slingshot had brought home. "It might be better to start thinking in more than just anarchy," he finished quietly.

Andrew frowned at him before ripping the packaging off the bread and taking a big bite into it. "If you're fucking talking about recruiting me too, you can fuck off right now. You assholes ain't got no perks."

Sean looked towards him and quirked an eyebrow. "Crack's better than bread, then?"

"Just 'cause I took your fucking bread don't mean anything," Andrew bit out, taking another large bite out of the bread. "You guys can all just go fuck off," he demanded before taking off out of the alley, hoping to get lost before they went after him.

Sean stayed quiet, his arms crossed as his eyes followed the other boy as he left. Stealth held the same stance, except he was looking at Sean. It was Slingshot who broke the silence.

"Alright, he said no. You tried; he declined. Can we get back to fucking work now?" he asked, looking between both Stealth and Spot, neither acknowledging him. "This leader isn't a fucking joke, you guys," he yelled. "He's vicious and out for Spot's blood. If we don't get the jump on him we're not going to be around much longer."

Sean finally looked over at him, arms still crossed. "You're fucking dramatic," he said before climbing up the building Stealth and Slingshot had recently jumped down from.

"That's what the kid's for," Stealth answered before following Sean.

Slingshot sighed as he joined them on the roof. "I don't know what the fuck that means." He looked between them both. "So who's fucking explaining this shit to me?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "I'm using the kid to get to the leader. Keep up, why don't you?"

Slingshot squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "That doesn't even make fucking sense, Sean. Kid's done. I don't know what he told you, but he's fucking out. The boss doesn't care about him anymore."

Sean snorted. "That doesn't explain all the fucking idiot goons I've been having to beat down that keep coming for him." He smirked. "I'm betting Mr. Boss just wants to knock Whore out onto the streets until he comes begging to repay for that crack with his body."

"More likely he was supposed to come crawling back for more crack," Stealth repeated with a deadpan voice. "Glad you know exactly what to do about that."

"Tch," Sean answered, looking down as he bared his teeth. "I'm weening him off."

"You're giving the kid fucking crack?" Slingshot burst out quietly. "What the fuck, Sean? Th-that's the stupidest fucking idea I've ever heard."

"I never asked you for your fucking help," Sean snapped back. "Either of you," he added, looking towards Stealth. "So you can both fuck off. I've got no problem doing this on my own." Without another word he hopped off the roof and ran in the direction Andrew had taken off in earlier.

Slingshot turned to Stealth. "He's going to get fucking shot again, isn't he?"

Stealth just shrugged before letting out a silent sigh.

* * *

"You need to stop following me," Andrew grit out as he looked at the tops of the building's around him. "And I know you're fucking here because I can hear you fucking breathing."

"Can not," Sean answered back, popping up from around the corner. He leaned against the wall he was nearest to. "If you could hear me you would know not to be looking up like a dumbass."

"Can you please fucking stop?" Andrew snapped. "I'm not getting any business with you fucking hovering around all the time."

Sean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "If you want someone's dick to suck mine's right here, Whore."

Andrew growled at him before throwing the small bit of bread left at his head. Sean easily caught it and popped the rest into his mouth.

"I fucking hate you!" Andrew screamed. "What the fuck part of 'leave me alone' do you not understand!? I don't want anything from you! I certainly don't want to suck your fucking dick! And I can't wait until someone finally offs your god damn stupid fucking ass!"

Sean's mouth twitched into a smirk. "Now, see, it's that kind of talk that makes me want you." He pushed off the wall, arms still crossed as he walked towards the other boy. "You're scrawny and have absolutely no idea how to fight."

"What the fuck's your point?" Andrew snarled, clenching his fists as he leaned forward. "That should make you want to leave me alone; you have no use for me."

Sean just shrugged back, dropping his smirk and stopping his stride a foot from Andrew. "I have no use for anybody. What do I care about other people's opinions?" He picked back up his smirk. "At least you provide some amusement."

The other boy drew back, the snarl on his face falling. "What the fuck is even wrong with you?" he snapped. I'm not here to be your fucking monkey, and you'll be a crap leader if you don't give a fuck about anything. You hope to inspire loyalty by either not giving a crap or laughing at everyone? _That's_ supposed to be what gets me to sign on? You're a fucking joke." Andrew turned his back on Sean and began to walk away. "You think it's funny when I'm pissed as shit? Fine, I'll stop then. Leave me the fuck alone. Or don't, I don't give a fuck. I'm done being your fucking joke."

"You're definitely prettier from this angle," Sean called at his back.

* * *

"I, for one, am glad it's over," Slingshot announced after Spot's third straight day of being back at their place before the sun went down.

"Shut the fuck up, Sling," Spot replied as Stealth simply shrugged at them both.

All three boys were stooped over a pot of plain pasta, eating with their hands since they had no forks. Slingshot was just happy he had successfully convinced them both to wash their hands.

"I'm just saying, the whole pining thing is a bit pathetic," Slingshot replied. He shot a look over at Sean. "Not to mention extremely disturbing, since it was you doing the pining."

Sean smirked back. "Jealous it wasn't you?" he asked before blowing a kiss towards him.

"You-you aren't funny, Spot," Slingshot replied, focusing on the spaghetti in the pot.

" _You_ are though," Spot replied back before diving his hand into the pasta and scooping some into his mouth. "Who the fuck even says 'pining'? You're a fucking middle aged man."

"I am not," Slingshot snapped back. "You and Stealth just don't have an ounce of common sense between the two of you."

Sean rolled his eyes. "I've got plenty. It just doesn't involve stupid shit like washing my fucking hands every time I god damn eat."

"Yes, because washing your hands is clearly for idiots," Slingshot replied, rolling his eyes right back. "Dirt and disease are clearly things made up by the government in order to incite mass panic among the people."

Stealth joined in the eye rolling, but opted not to say anything as he took a handful of spaghetti himself.

Sean snorted. "If germs were my problem I wouldn't be eating stolen fucking pasta with my hands," he pointed out.

"I'm keeping germs from _becoming_ a problem," Slingshot replied, scooping up more spaghetti with his hands. "For you of course, but, mostly for me." He shot Spot a pointed look. "I don't know what the fuck you get into when you go out alone, and I certainly don't want to taste it in my food."

A slow grin spread across Sean's face. "I'll give you something to taste."

"C-cut that shit out, Spot!" Slingshot demanded, quickly cutting eye contact and, instead, staring down at the almost empty pot. "That shit isn't funny. And you're disgusting."

"There's someone at the door," Stealth broke in "He's friendly," he assured the others as he stood up. "I'll leave you be." He grabbed the pot and walked out of the room right before there was a knock on the door.

"I'm never going to get used to that creepy ass shit," Slingshot muttered to himself.

"I think he's slipping; I don't know anyone who's fucking friendly," Sean muttered back before shouting towards the door. "What the fuck do you want?"

The door slowly pushed open to reveal a boy close to Spot's height and build. "Hiya, Boss," he greeted with a wave. "We've got some message from some guys from the gang around Cypress Hills. Thought you might want to open it yourself."

"Who the fuck are you?" Sean asked, pushing himself away from the table and standing up. "And why the fuck do you think I would care about some dumbass message from some pissants?"

Slingshot rolled his eyes.

"And if you keep rolling your fucking eyes at me I'm going to steal some god damn fucking forks just so I can rip your god damn fucking eyes out of your god damn fucking head," Sean snapped, rounding onto his second-in-command.

"This is Stevie," Slingshot announced, not even showing a wince at Sean's yelled threat. He stood up from his own chair and walked over to place his hand on Sean's shoulder. "Spot, Stevie, and vice versa," he introduced, nodding to both of them. "Stevie volunteered to join up a couple of weeks ago. I've got him patrolling the south border."

"The south border of _what_? And why the fuck do I care," Sean answered back with a frown before shrugging Slingshot's hand off of him. "And why the fuck would we even want someone like this?" he asked Slingshot, jerking his head to the other boy. "He's fucking scrawny."

Slingshot tipped his head and frowned, crossing his arms as he looked between the two boys that looked almost identical aside from their faces. "If you didn't _just_ threaten me with a fork I'd be rolling my eyes at you right now."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And what the fuck is the southern border?"

"It's around Georgetown," Slingshot replied, continuing when all he got in return was a blank look from Sean. "You secured it last week."

Sean just cocked his eyebrow at him..

"Jesus," Slingshot sighed. "Remember that guy you let drown in his own blood last week?"

Sean shrugged and nodded.

"That guy was a gang leader. His gang split off as soon as he was down and we moved in on the territory. It is secured and being patrolled as we speak."

"Mm," Sean replied back before rounding on the other boy. "And what the fuck is with this message then? Death threat?"

"I-I … I don't know, Boss," Stevie replied, no longing smiling as he held the envelope out. "W-we thought you'd want to read it first."

Sean narrowed his eyes as Slingshot. "Now he's fucking sniveling, Sling. Why the fuck did you get this guy? And why the fuck do you think he would be useful at all? He's going to fucking wet his pants before anything even fucking happens."

Slingshot sighed after forcing himself not to roll his eyes. "He's doing his job, Spot. I'll deal with it if he's not." He shot a quick look to Stevie who immediately twitched under his gaze, his eyes wide as he bit the inside of his cheek. " _Or_ if he decides to wet himself," he conceded.

" _When_ , you mean," Sean grunted out as he crossed his arms.

"I'm ignoring you now," Slingshot replied before striding towards the other boy. He looked down at him with a smile. "I'll take the message, Stevie," he said before taking the envelope out of his hand. "Thank you. You can return to your post now. I've got it from here."

The boy nodded jerkily before walking backwards towards the door, his eyes not leaving Spot. "O-okay, sir. Th-thank you, Boss," he replied, fiddling with the door knob before quickly slipping out the door.

"So … we making bets on how long it takes for him to wet his pants?" Sean asked, still looking towards the door.

Slingshot couldn't resist the eye roll this time. "Do you not want a fucking gang? We need recruits to monitor our territory, so you aren't just going around dethroning all these gang leaders for no reason. Recruits like Stevie are the only ones we're going to get, because no sensible person is going to work for a scrawny kid who wants to cause anarchy. Do you not understand how this works?"

"I'd rather have no recruits than Pisspants," Sean replied, gesturing towards the door with his head as he crossed his arms.

"Maybe if you showed your face every once in awhile in a nonthreatening way I could find more people willing to work for you," Slingshot said, tearing open the envelope. "As it stands now no one wants anything to do with you. You aren't goal-oriented, and you leave the recruits to fend for themselves more often than not. There's no benefits here."

"Why the fuck should I give benefits to people that haven't even done anything for me yet?" Sean asked before shooting a look to the paper Slingshot was reading. "What's it say?"

"It's a ransom note," Stealth answered, suddenly behind Slingshot and making him jump. "Spot in exchange for Whore. Signed by Whore's ex-boss."

Slingshot scoffed. "What the fuck kind of demands are those?" he asked as Sean took the message away from him. "A prostitute for a gang boss? What idiot came up with that? Not to mention he's not even _our_ prostitute. What kind of idiots would we be to accept that?"

" _Nice_ ," Sean said with a huge grin, still looking down at the paper. "I'm game." He finally looked at his two commanders. He flashed them the note. "Sounds fun, eh?"

Stealth nodded, his face still blank.

Slingshot crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "If we ever get forks I'm going to go fucking blind," he mumbled to himself.

* * *

"I don't understand why you're doing this," Andrew grunted out as his arm was twisted behind his back. His bruises from Spot had started to fade, just to be replaced by new bruises from this bunch of strangers. "Tell me: what'd I do to you?" He asked, looking up at the man in front of him.

The other man behind him just twisted his arm back farther.

Andrew grated his teeth, determined not to show them he was in pain. That was something that always seemed to crack Spot up, and these guys seemed just as sadistic. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction.

"We're trading _you_ for someone who's _useful_ ," the man in front of him replied before lacing his hands behind his back and turning around. "The person in question should be receiving my message shortly. And, thanks to his odd fascination with _you_ , I expect his full cooperation."

Andrew narrowed his eyes as he quickly connected the dots. Spot had been his last contact. He had hoped that with Spot gone he could finally start picking up some business, but it'd been three days and still everyone on the street was avoiding him. Honestly, he had been expecting something like this eventually. With no customers to buy him bodyguards and no gang to back him up he was a sitting duck on the streets.

"If you're talking about who I think you're talking about you're delusional," Andrew grunted out. "Spot's just as sadistic as you bastards. He doesn't give a fuck about me."

"Now, now, Andrew, is that anyway to talk about my men?" a calm voice asked from behind him.

Andrew froze immediately and tried to turn around to see the man behind the voice. Unfortunately, the man who had his arm in a submission hold just held on stronger. "B-boss!" he grunted, knowing the voice without having to see the face. "W-what are you doing? I-I thought …"

"You thought _what_?" the man asked, walking around so Andrew could finally see him. He cocked one of his eyebrows and stared down at the boy, arms behind his back. "You thought that just because you were my whore that you had some sort of _pass_? You thought I wouldn't take offense to you deserting and joining forces with a _menace_?"

"I-I didn't desert, Boss, I swear," Andrew interrupted, his eyes wide. He'd seen what was left of deserters after they received their punishment; it wasn't pretty. "And I certainly never deserted for _him_."

"You certainly haven't learned any manners," the man replied back, his eyes narrowed. "What have I said about interrupting me? Especially to give me _lies_." He slapped Andrew across his bruised face before starting to pace the room. "The _nerve_ of your insolence. He beats up my men and what do you do? You offer to suck his fucking cock!"

Andrew's eyes widened even more, not realizing that his boss had found out about his first meeting with Spot. "B-boss, it wasn't like that. It wasn't like I wanted to, but he'd stolen-"

"You think I _care_ about that measly amount of crack?" he growled out, punching the wall in front of him. "You think I can't replace it just like I replaced _you_? What I can't get over is the absolute _disrespect_ that was shown to me and my organization the second you let him win!"

Andrew's eyes shot to the floor, no longer able to look at his boss. He had liked the man. He had taught him how to take care of himself and had introduced him to his new family. And while he was no stranger to his angry outbursts this was the very time they had ever been directed towards him.

"And, believe me, if he _doesn't_ come," he said, turning back around to look at Andrew, visibly more in control of his rage than he was just a second ago."If he _doesn't_ come," he repeated, "I will make sure you know just how displeased I am. And then when I'm done showing you just how much displeasure I have for you …" He pointed straight at Andrew's head, his thumb straight up. "... it's _bam_ : you're dead," he finished before making the motion of a gun going off.

* * *

"You know we're walking into a trap, right?" Slingshot asked as he followed Stealth and Sean over the rooftops. "This guy is vicious, and I can only imagine that he didn't take you messing around with his whore lightly."

"You worry too much," Sean replied back as he leapt over the roof's edge to land on a fire escape. "Obviously it's a trap." He shrugged. "I wanna see what he's made out of."

"You want to fucking die is what you want to do," Slingshot bit back, swinging his feet over the rooftop and then sliding down before joining his boss on the fire escape. "And, you," he said, turning to Stealth who had yet to leave the rooftop. "You condone this? You're going to let him walk into a death trap?"

Stealth nodded. "I'll stay here."

"Yep," Sean replied immediately, swinging down to the next level of the fire escape. "See you on the other side."

"You're okay with him going but you aren't fucking going with him?" Slingshot shouted, his arms spread wide in disbelief. "What the fuck sort of sense does that make?"

Stealth shrugged at him.

Slingshot dropped his arms, his anger quickly being replaced with confusion. "Well … what the fuck am I supposed to do then?" he asked.

Stealth just shrugged again.

"Keep up or get left behind, Sling," Sean's voice called out from below them.

Slingshot looked at the ground before shooting a look at a despondent Stealth and then turning back once again to the ground. He groaned. "What the fuck am I even fucking doing?" he muttered to himself before leaping over the fire escape railing and following after his boss.

Stealth smiled as he looked at them both from above. "Looks like you have your first loyal follower, King."

"You know you're fucking stupid, right?" Slingshot asked, his voice floating up so Stealth could hear it from the rooftop. "You're going to get _me_ killed right before you get yourself _tortured_ and killed. Have I not told you how vicious this guy is?"

"And _you're_ going to get us caught before we're supposed to be," Sean snapped back. "You worry too god damn much, Sling."

"Well, holy hell, _one_ of us has to at least worry," Slingshot replied. "You sure as hell don't. Do you even have a plan aside from strolling in, taking the boy, and leaving? Because that's not going to fucking happen, Spot. This guy is good. His guys are loyal and terrified of being on his bad side, especially the people he has guarding him. This isn't about to be a walk in the park."

"Any gang leader that needs people to guard him is pathetic," Sean said before he suddenly fell forward with a grunt.

Slingshot's eyes widened and he immediately ran forward to crouch by him. "Spot?" he asked, shaking his shoulder. "Spot? What the fuck? What happened?"

"Tranquilizer dart," a voice said from behind him.

Slingshot spun around to find a pistol pointed at his head and a smiling man on the other end. He looked around to find five men in all surrounding them: two blocking their only exits, two on the rooftops above them, and the one right in front of him. He held up his hands in surrender and rolled his eyes. "Told the fucking bastard this was going to be a trap."

* * *

"I told you this was a fucking trap," Slingshot growled out as Sean finally began to gain some consciousness. "Lover boy's here too," he said, nodding his head to the other wall where Andrew was glaring at them both. "So, clearly more of a kidnapping and less of a ransom." He looked up. "Now, why does that sound so familiar? Oh, yeah, maybe because _I fucking told you this would happen as soon as we got that fucking letter_!"

Sean shook his head slightly, trying to clear the grogginess he was feeling. "Can you be fucking quiet? You're giving me a fucking headache." He blinked his eyes, finally looking around the room. Slingshot was on his right and the whore was about four feet away on the opposite wall. Four walls surrounded them with no windows and only one door. His hands were tied with rope behind his back and his feet were bound in front of him. Slingshot and Whore were in identical situations. "Report?"

"What am I? A fucking army grunt now?" Slingshot asked, rolling his eyes. "Five guys brought us in, all armed. We met another four when we got here, also all armed. Plus their boss, who may or may not be armed. I haven't seen Stealth since we left him all the rooftop, so it's just me, you, and Mr. GrouchyPants over there," he answered, dipping his head towards Andrew. "So if you could tell me that you have a plan to get us out of this mess that'd be great."

"I've got a plan," Sean replied.

"Oh, thank fuck," Slingshot sighed out, letting his head rest on the wall for a second. He turned towards Spot. "Alright, so what's this master plan of yours?"

Sean shrugged. "I haven't thought of it yet."

"Jesus _fuck_ ," Slingshot answered slamming his head against the wall. "I'm going to fucking die, aren't I? How the fuck did I let myself get dragged into all this fucking shit?"

Andrew snorted from across the room. "I don't believe _this_ is what everyone's so worked up about. You willingly walk into a trap, providing them with no resistance whatsoever and having absolutely no plan to escape. And you do this for someone who hates your fucking guts."

Sean snorted right back as he tried to loosen the ropes around his wrists. "Don't give yourself a big head, Whore. I didn't do this for you. I did it because I was bored." He turned towards his Second-in-Command. "Slingshot, move your back towards me and come here. These idiots didn't even bother tying us up to anything."

Slingshot nodded before scooting on the floor towards Sean. "Think you can get us untied? You've been out for awhile; I've been trying, but so far I haven't even been able to loosen the damn things."

"Who the fuck uses rope anymore?" Sean asked, ignoring Slingshot's question as he turned his back to him. "This asshole never hear of zip ties? This his first fucking kidnapping? Move a little to your left," Sean commanded as Slingshot's back matched with his.

"Only you would complain about not being kidnapped well enough," Slingshot complained. "Knot's up at the top, towards my back," he explained as Sean tried to find it.

"There's no way you assholes are getting out of here," Andrew said as he watched them trying to untie the ropes. "Even if you do manage to undo the ropes and break through the door there's _at least_ ten armed men out there, plus the Boss's guard is here. Anyone of those guys could take us all out before you even blink."

"What about your boss?" Sean asked, still fiddling with the ropes.

Andrew narrowed his eyes. "What about him?"

"Could he take me out before I even blink? Or does he let all his cronies do the work for him?"

Andrew drew back towards the wall and blinked. "I … boss doesn't fight," he finally said. He tilted his chin up. "It's undignified."

Sean snorted. "Right because 'gang leader' is such a dignified position. Ya hear this shit, Sling?" he asked as the ropes tying Slingshot's hands together finally fell away. "Can't believe the asshole can't even fight."

Slingshot scratched his chin before quickly untying the ropes around his ankles. "Please tell me this wasn't all because you wanted to fight this dude," he demanded before turning around and working to untie Sean's hands.

Sean shrugged before crossing his arms and kicking at the floor. "I don't want to _anymore_."

"You're seriously deranged," Andrew said, looking between the two of them.

Slingshot just nodded as Sean's hands came free. "I've been telling him that since I've met the asshole."

"You're the one following him," Andrew pointed out as he watched Sean untie his legs. "As far as I'm concerned that makes you just as deranged as he is."

Sean smirked as he stood up. "I've been a good influence," he said, looking at Slingshot. "He was a sniveling little worm when I met him the first time. Now he can at least throw a punch." He turned to look down at Andrew, still tied up on the floor. "That's a lot more than I can say for you."

"You're a fucking asshole," Andrew snapped back, struggling to get out of his ropes.

Sean cocked his eyebrow up at him. "Not the best way to be talking to someone who could potentially be your savior, is it?" he asked with a smirk.

Andrew tried to spit at him, but he wasn't close enough. "You fucking bastard. It's your fault I'm tied up in the first place. I wouldn't be here at all if you would have just left me the fuck alone like I asked you to."

"Ah, yes," Sean replied, nodding as he crossed his arms. "Now that you mention it, I _do_ remember tying you up and throwing you into this room. Can't believe I forgot."

"My boss wouldn't have ever done this if you hadn't-"

" _Your_ boss is a fucking pussy," Sean snapped back. "And I'm going to destroy him and everyone like him. A leader that doesn't even have the confidence to fight beside his people doesn't deserve fucking people. _So_ , the question becomes: do you want to stay in this little room until someone else eventually finds you or do you want to come and watch me kill your boss?"

"Boss is going to kill you before you ever get the chance," Andrew replied, looking up at Sean with clenched teeth.

Sean roundhouse kicked him in the head, making the boy topple onto his side. " _That_ wasn't one of the options."

"You fucking bastard," Andrew grunted out from the ground. "Untie me."

"Two options, Whore," Sean replied back, striding over and and putting his boot on the side of Andrew's head. "Do you want to stay tied up in this room until someone eventually finds your scrawny ass?" He cocked an eyebrow and looked down at the other boy for a few seconds, continuing when he got no response. "Or do you want to come and watch me kill your boss?"

" _Say it!_ " Sean hissed when all Andrew did was nod. He pressed his boot on the side of his face. "I wanna hear you fucking _tell_ me."

"I wanna watch you kill my boss!" Andrew screamed as his eyes teared up from the pain.

"Fantastic," Sean replied, immediately taking his foot off the boy and turning his back to him. "Slingshot, let's go."

"Yes, Boss," Slingshot replied, striding over to Andrew to untie his limbs and help him up.

Andrew shot him a dirty look before his eyes darted over at Spot and then to the floor.

"I got ya, kid," Slingshot said quietly in the silence. He gently helped Andrew stand up after undoing the ropes, taking note of the bruises on him that he was confident were not put there by Sean.

"You done coddling him now?" Spot asked from the doorway.

"Yes, Boss," Slingshot replied with a nod, putting his arm around Andrew's shoulders.

Spot grinned wide as he turned back towards the door. "Great. I'll go first. You two pussies can bring up the rear," he commanded before kicking open the door and charging ahead, not caring enough to wait for a response.

Andrew glared at the doorway. "I can't believe you work for that fucking psycho," he said, gently touching part of the shoe print that was now on his face.

"Yeah, but at least you know he'll never ask you to do something he wouldn't do." He shrugged and looked towards the door with a smile on his face. "Beats working for a pussy any day of the week."

Before Andrew could reply a crash came from the hallway.

"Sounds like he's found somebody," Slingshot announced. "Come on," he demanded, slipping his arm off the kid's shoulder and striding towards the door. "Keep up or get left behind."

"Don't I _want_ to be left behind?" Andrew muttered to himself before following behind.

* * *

Spot brought down another gunman with a kick to the head before he was no longer able to contain his laughter. There was a certain rush that violence brought him that nothing else could. A certain wildness that came about him that he couldn't and didn't want to stop.

He ducked down as the sound of a gun went off, quickly looking around to determine where the next wave was going to come from. He smirked as he saw Slingshot and Whore rounding the corner.

"Late to the party, aren't cha?" he asked before smashing his fist into the face of the man heading up the next wave. "You guys going to stand around or you getting in on the fun?" Sean ducked the butt of a gun before surging forward and slamming his boot into the man's stomach.

Slingshot nodded before turning to Andrew, who was looking at the scene with wide eyes and an open mouth. "If you can't fight, stay back. Spot doesn't give a fuck what happens to anybody when he's in combat mode, so keep out of the way if you don't want to end up dead," he advised before running into the fray of the fight himself.

Andrew instead pressed himself up against the wall, watching the chaos swirling around him. He didn't do good in these types of environments, trying to take in all the details and instead failing at taking in a single one. Everything was moving too fast.

Spot seemed to be putting everything he had into his every movement, taking on two or three guys at once with no hesitation. He brought one man down just to go straight to another, not waiting for them to come to him. It looked effortless and the maniacal smile he had spoke volumes about just how much he was enjoying himself.

And Slingshot was keeping up with him beautifully. Not at all as impressive, but just as driven, jumping right to the next man as soon as one fell. Though, it was clear from the frown on his face that Slingshot wasn't enjoying himself like his boss was enjoying himself; there was still nothing to indicate that he would mourn anyone's death.

And then everything froze as Slingshot was hit in the head with the back of a pistol and went down, a gunman quickly picking him up and shoving another pistol into his mouth.

Spot's reaction was immediately, his face quickly turning from deranged madman to calm negotiator as he stood up straight and put his hands up. "Whoa now, no need to be pointing guns at people," he told the man, the hard rise and fall of his chest the only sign he had been exerting himself earlier. "I just wanted an appointment with your boss."

"Well, you've got it," a voice said from behind Andrew.

The boy froze for a second before spinning around and staring at his boss looking as unruffled as ever.

The boss smiled at him before putting an arm around his shoulders and forcing him away from the wall, striding towards Slingshot and Spot. "Though I must admit this meeting came a bit faster than expected."

Spot shrugged, looking around him. "Never been much good at time," he admitted. Both he and Slingshot had a gunman on him, and the pussy ass boss had one on each side of him. There was another gunman who looked untouched a few feet away and another two that looked wounded. Everyone else was either unconscious or dead. "Never been much good at patience, either."

The man just smiled wider. "Yes, well, that is to be expected from children," he allowed. "Not to worry, however," he continued with a smile. "I can teach you plenty of patience while I'm torturing you."

Spot smirked back, dropping his arms from their surrender position and crossing them across his chest. "You wouldn't _believe_ how many people have made the same threat. I do hope you don't pride yourself on originality." He began to take a step forward before the gun set to the back of his head was pressed in, making sure he remembered it was there. He stepped back, but just smiled wider. "So far no one's been successful, so what makes you think you're special?"

The man gave an exaggerated look towards Slingshot and Andrew, matching Spot's smile. "Yes, well, I'm willing to bet no one else had hostages."

"You don't have shit," Spot replied. "You think I care about a whore and a guy who can't even kick above his head? Shoot 'em if you want. Makes no difference to me."

The man's face dropped as his hold Andrew loosened, then everything sped up again.

Spot immediately elbowed the man behind in the gut before jumping over Slingshot to kick the man in front of him in the head.

Slingshot quickly rolled away before going straight to the wounded gunman, making short work of them before going for the third.

Meanwhile, Andrew had rolled away from his boss, crouching along the wall and quickly picking up a pistol he found on the ground. By the time he got his grounding all the guards were knocked out and Spot was standing over his boss.

"Slingshot's fucking _mine_ , you son of a bitch," Spot growled, slamming the man's head into the ground. "I should scrape your fucking eyes out of your head for even looking at him. Lucky for you you aren't worth my time. A piece of shit gang leader who can't even fight is worthless to the new regiment."

For the first time Andrew could remember his boss looked terrified. Whereas Spot had stared down a pistol without even flinching this man, who Andrew had looked up to for so long, looked desperate.

Slingshot walked up to be on Spot's right side, staring down at the man who had kidnapped them.

"Your men are slow and sloppy," Spot explained. "They have no guidance beyond your orders, and no loyalty to you besides fear and money. You inspire no greater way to be, and you can't understand them. And that means, between me and you, I will always win."

That was when Andrew's eyes met his boss's, and his boss's eyes fell to the gun.

"A-Andrew!" he shouted, his voice strained and desperate. "Shoot them! Shoot them now!"

And Andrew lifted up the pistol, but he didn't aim it at Spot or Slingshot. "He's right, you know. You don't inspire any real loyalty," he said before pulling the trigger at his ex boss's head. "Bam. You're dead," he said, his face blank as the body dropped.

Spot stood up then, not even sparing Andrew a glance as he walked down the hallway the men had been appearing. "Well, that was fun, eh?"

"I think you're definition of fun is a little screwed up," Slingshot replied with a sigh. "How early is too early to start getting grey hairs?"

"I take it the training went well then?" Steath asked as they rounded the corner and found him sitting around five motionless bodies.

"Training?" Slingshot asked, turning towards Sean with his eyebrows raised.

Sean shrugged, finally turning to look at Andrew. "Hey, Bam, you wet yourself?"

Andrew blinked in surprise when he realized the question was directed at him. "What? No. Why would I?"

"See, Sling?" Sean asked, turning back to his Second-in-Command. "He's already better than the recruits you got me." He nodded towards Andrew. "Training passed. Let's go the fuck home," he demanded before walking off, not waiting for any of them to follow.

Stealth immediately went to Sean's side, but Slingshot hung back with Bam, putting a hand on his shoulder. "In my experience, he just gets easier to follow around, so if you don't want to follow a deranged psychopath you should probably get out while you can."

Bam shrugged. "I'm starting to see the appeal."

TBC

 


	4. Hunter or How Spot Became Desperate

 

Bam: Age 12  
Sean: Age 13  
Slingshot: Age 14  
Stealth: Age 15

"Honestly, I don't know why you want someone to help you steal cars in the first place," Bam said, throwing his feet on the coffee table in front of him. "None of us can drive, in case you've forgotten."

"What better way to learn than from stolen cars?" Spot asked. He was hunched over on the folding chair across from him, elbows on his knees.

"Well, there's always fucking _driving school_ ," Bam snapped back, rolling his eyes. "I swear to god, you don't know the concept of _thinking_ , do you?" He turned to face Slingshot who was sitting next to him on the couch. "Aren't you the one who's supposed to talk him out of stupid ideas? Why aren't you saying anything?"

Slingshot shrugged at him. "I'm just glad he's taking a break from beating random people up and actually starting to plan for a bigger picture. _And_ he's talking about adding a member legitimately." He turned to look at Spot, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "I honestly couldn't be prouder."

Spot rolled his eyes. "We need a car and a good driver," he explained slowly. "How the fuck am I supposed to own all of Brooklyn if I'm stuck _walking_ everywhere?" It was annoying having to explain himself all the time. He shot a look at Stealth who was sitting cross-legged on the floor and smirking up at him. He missed when it was just the two of them and he never had to explain anything. Stealth never asked for explanations; he seemed to know the plan before Spot had even made it, following along with a smoothness that he was sure no one could ever match.

"How the fuck do you expect to own all of Brooklyn with only four people?" Bam snapped. "You're fucking delusional."

"I've been gethering recruits," Slingshot spoke up.

"Your recruits are crap and everyone knows it," Bam argued.

" _You're_ crap and everyone knows it," Slingshot snapped right back.

"Fuck you!" Bam shouted, standing up from the couch and glaring down at Slingshot.

Slingshot shot up at once, matching his glare. "No, _seriously_ , you fucking suck. You're useless at hand-to-hand combat, your endurance is weak, your physical strength is a laugh. Your strongest asset is your aim, which doesn't even come close to matching my skill. Seems like the only reason you're here is to be Spot's fuck buddy."

"Fuck you, you piece of shit," Bam growled out, taking a step towards Slingshot so they were chest to chest. "I'll show you exactly what I can do if you're man enough to take it."

Slingshot bumped up against his chest, sending him back a few steps. "What do you mean if _I_ can take it? You're the one who has all the practice taking di-"

" _Children_!" Spot yelled, throwing his folding chair across the room hard enough to chip plaster off of wall. "Can you fucking _shut up_? I don't need _either_ of you. You wanted to not be kept in the dark so I'm fucking sharing. So shut the fuck up and fucking listen."

"Yes, Boss," Bam and Slingshot said in unison before both sitting back down.

Spot started pacing. "I need someone who drives and who drives fast. If he's good at stealing them it's just a plus. I've been told Speed is exactly the guy I'm looking for," he shot a look at Stealth in order to receive the confirmation nod.

"Except Speed is enrolled in an all boys school in upper east Manhattan, and leaving campus is prohibited," Slingshot explained. "We'd have to wait at least three months for summer vacation to hit."

" _Or_ we break someone into the school," Bam suggested. "Once we convince him to join up we can both just leave the grounds; gang members don't need to go to school."

"What kind of logic is-" Slingshot began, only to be cut off by Spot.

"So we need someone good with forging documents." Spot looked towards Slingshot. "Know anyone who fits that description?"

Slingshot sighed as he scratched the back of his head. "My old boss actually outsourced all the documents he needed to forge. I never got a name, but I might know where to find him."

Spot finally stopped his pacing. "Great," he said with a smirk. "Let's go on a field trip, kids."

Slingshot rolled his eyes. "You _do_ realize I'm older than you, right?"

"I will when you start acting like it, minion," Spot replied, already heading for the door.

* * *

Alex smirked as he breathed in the smell of his overly expensive coffee. The criminal activity in Brooklyn was magnificent, and he was taking full advantage of it. Who needed a gang for protection when the gangs all needed you?

He finished the signature on what was now a vehicle registration, smirking even wider. It was art, what he did, it truly was. And the cash he got paid for it was incredible.

Maybe he was being callous, but he much preferred this compared to the life he was living before his parents had died; having to survive on pasta or crackers to sustain himself and never having electricity or running water. Now he was living the high life. He slept in a hotel room every night, and ate only the most expensive food.

This restaurant was one of his favorites. It had tall ceilings and waiters that pulled out your chair for you. It made him feel like a prince.

"I require your services," a man said before sliding into the seat across from him.

Alex closed his eyes and sighed as he pushed the papers in front of him into his satchel. The problem with this being his favorite restaurant was that everyone _knew_ it was his favorite restaurant; the riffraff came in droves. "There's a fifty dollar consulting fee and a twenty percent cut on what you will be purchasing." He took a drink of his coffee. "I expect money upfront."

The man bobbed his head in agreement. "Of course, of course. I knew you weren't cheap. What else would anyone expect from the best, right?" he asked, chuckling nervously before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a stack of twenty-dollar bills. He leaned forward in the seat as he pushed the money towards Alex. "I'm in need of some _legal_ consult, so to speak."

Alex nodded back, forcing his expression to remain neutral as he looked at the stack of money in front of him. Yes, things were definitely better now than they had been before. "I'm listening."

"I'm going through some troubles with my wife," the man replied stiffly before his eyes darted around the restaurant. He leaned forward even more, speaking in a whisper. "None of this would be a problem, except she absolutely _refuses_ to sign the divorce papers."

"Mm … divorce is expensive," Alex replied, his eyes darting to the cash in front of him. "It puts all of your valuables in danger. If this little bit of money is twenty percent of it you've got more problems than just your wife." He took three twenties off the top and put them in the front pocket of his bag. "My consulting fee," he explained before pushing out his chair and getting ready to leave.

"Please! Wait!" the man demanded, his eyes wide as he jerked out of his chair to grab onto his wrist. "I can get you more money! How much do you want? I'll get you whatever you want."

Alex frowned at him as he shook his wrist loose. "Depends entirely on how much you're worth. I already told you: my fees are twenty percent."

Suddenly a boy appeared beside him, grabbing up the bundle of twenties from the table. "If this is what you're offering I can just off her for ya. It'll be a lot cheaper for you."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Alex snapped, jumping out of his seat at the newcomer. The boy was the very epitome of riffraff. He was sporting a black eye and his clothes were full of holes. The poor bastard clearly didn't have a penny to his name. "This is private business."

The other boy rolled his eyes as he twirled the money between his fingers. "Right, private. That explains why I heard Bastard's grovelling from all the way outside." He turned towards the man. "If you wanna get rid of money so bad I'd be happy to help." He took two twenties off the top and handed them to Alex. "Your consulting fee," he explained.

"Wait a minute, you bastard!" the man yelled, now fully out of his seat as he approached the boy. "That's my money, you stupid punk!"

"Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it," the boy answered, swiftly going around the man to grab his now vacated chair and pulling it over to his side of the table. He threw the rest of the money at the man. "You can take the rest," he said, taking a seat. "But now you should leave. I have business to discuss," he ordered, his attention fully on Alex by now.

"This isn't how you conduct business. Just who the fuck do you think you are?" Alex growled.

"My inferiors insist on calling me Spot," he answered with a smirk. "And I conduct my business in any way I fucking want."

The man's eyes got even wider. "I-I've heard of you," he said, backing up.

Spot rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. Stupid name's really stuck." He leaned in closer to Alex. "That's my second-in-command's fault," he explained as the other man took off towards the door. "Bastard never knows when to keep quiet."

Alex frowned at him. He had never heard of anyone called 'Spot' before. "Well, this business of yours better be good. You just scared off a new client." He frowned at the door his potential client had just left through before turning his attention back to Spot and looking him up and down. "You don't look like you have much money."

"The thing I need doesn't cost any money," Spot explained, leaning back in his seat. "I need a man."

"Sorry, I don't do weddings," Alex bit out, rising out of his chair once more.

Spot wasted no time leaping from his own chair and slamming Alex's head into the table. "So what's twenty percent of a man?" he asked calmly, still pressing the other boy's head into the tabletop. "You want an arm?"

"Unfortunately, I need mine," he continued, ignoring Alex's grunt, "especially when misunderstandings like this happen. Tell you what though, I'll stop myself from cutting off _your_ arm, you find me my guy, and we'll call it even. What do you say?"

Alex struggled a bit, only to stop when more pressure was put on his head. It seemed he was stuck. "Just call me 'Hunter'," Alex grumbled from the table, deciding that, at least this time, survival was probably more important than money. After this he was investing in some god damn body guards.

* * *

"I said I needed a _felt-tip_ pen, you imbecile!" Hunter yelled days later as he threw the permanent marker he was given across the room. He had been using the rickety kitchen table placed in the middle of the gang's residence to do his work, terribly upset to be working in such a hovel. "How do you expect me to perform my art if you keep giving me inadequate supplies!?" he yelled.

Bam crossed his arms and glared right back. "I don't know what the fuck a felt-tipped pen is!" he shouted back. "These tips looked felt enough to me!"

"I'm surrounded by utter _idiots_!" Hunter yelled, slamming his fist into the table. "Listen, you little shit," Hunter said quietly through clenched teeth as he lifted his head up to look at Bam. "What I do is an art form, and while I don't expect a neanderthal like yourself to understand, I do expect you to appreciate it. So when I say I need a felt-tip pen to complete the job, I expect you to be looking for a box saying _felt-tip pens_." He cocked his head as he breathed out. "Is that too difficult for you to process? Or can you not read?"

Bam slammed his fist into the back of Hunter's skull. "Fuck your shitty 'art form'," he replied as Hunter's face slammed into the table. "What you do is talk too damn much."

"You people are cretins," Hunter muttered, touching under his nose to check for blood. "If I get harmed here don't think I won't sue."

"And where would that get you, exactly?" Bam asked as he crossed his arms. He looked around their small living room, taking in the beaten up couch and the half-broken folding chairs. "In case you didn't notice: we have fuck all. And we certainly don't care about the fucking law."

"This is kidnapping!" Hunter declared, rising from his seat. "You're keeping me away from very important work! You're losing me my business!"

"You're free to leave whenever," Spot's calm voice answered back as he stepped into the room. "You'll have to leave your arm of course, as I'll have no reason to pay you anymore, but I don't particularly mind taking the non dominant one. It's not my intention to run you out of business."

"Exactly what part of you threatening to chop off my arm if I leave makes it sound like this _isn't_ a kidnapping!?" Hunter asked, his voice getting louder with every syllable.

" _You're_ the one who wanted payment," Spot reminded him as he came to stand in front of Bam. "And next time you insult one of my people I'm going to rip out your voicebox. Luckily, you don't need that either, in your line of work."

" _Look_ ," Hunter replied, forcing himself to become calm. "I don't want to be here. You don't want me to be here. I just want to finish this job and go home with all my limbs and organs in tact. But I can't do that if your men keep _bringing me the wrong supplies_." He snapped out the last part, making sure to glare at Bam as he did so.

"It's not my fault you don't give concise directions!" Bam shouted back from behind his boss. "How fucking hard is it to forge some bullshit high school documents anyway?" he asked, crossing his arms as he looked at the ceiling. "Seems to me any moron could do it."

"I told you: it's an _art form_!" Hunter shouted back, jumping up to stand once again and squashing the paper in front of him into his hand. "It's a delicate process someone of your caliber couldn't begin to appreciate!"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you see," Hunter replied, suddenly much calmer. "'Caliber' means the quality of someone's-"

"I know what the fuck 'caliber' means, you fucktard," Bam snapped out, talking loudly.

"Then why'd you ask?" Hunter asked. He cocked his head, unable to keep his grin off his face.

"I'm getting very annoyed," Spot told the room calmly. He turned towards Bam. "Stop provoking him; he's just trying to get a rise out of you, and it's insulting how well it's working." Next he turned towards Hunter. "And you, do your fucking job before I break your hand to relieve all the tension you've been giving me." He turned around to leave the room, hands behind his back. "Honestly," he muttered, loud enough for the other two people in the room to hear. "It's enrolling in a fucking high school; it's not fucking neuroscience."

* * *

"You really think it's wise to keep him around until we collect our man?" Slingshot asked as soon as Spot came through the door. "He's certainly stirring things up."

Spot sighed as he slid down the wall. "There's no telling if this guy'll even _want_ to work with us. If he turns down the offer chances are we'll need Hunter all over again, and there's no way I'm paying another one of his absurd consulting fees."

"You don't think this guy is going to want to join?" Slingshot asked, sliding down the wall opposite his boss. "Why the hell are we going through all this trouble then?"

"I _need_ him," Spot answered, clenching his fist. "At the very least I need someone _like_ him. It's essential. I can deal with morons if it means I can eventually get what I want."

Slingshot let a chuckle escape, hoping Spot wouldn't take offence to it. "Are you telling me that you're doing all this planning and work out of desperation?"

Spot shrugged back at him before resting his head against the wall. "Why the fuck else would I do it? This shit gives me a headache."

TBC


	5. Speed or How Spot Became Humble(ish)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied about how many chapters this story is. It's now been fixed. Thanks for reading!

 

Bam: Age 12  
Sean: Age 13  
Slingshot: Age 14  
Stealth: Age 15  
Hunter: Age 17

"What's the name?" Hunter asked as he hovered over the document in front of him. "I can't very well put 'Spot' on an acceptance letter."

"Sean Conlon," Spot answered from his spot on the couch.

"Wait," Bam said, standing up from his place across the table from Hunter. He pointed towards his boss with wide eyes. " _You're_ the one going?"

Spot just shrugged.

Slingshot shook his head from his place beside his boss. "How is that a good idea? You're just going to end up beating everyone up on your first day. You don't have an ounce of diplomacy in your body."

"And what about school? Can you even read?" Bam asked.

Spot glared at Bam before leaning forward. "Shut up, you idiots," he snapped. "I can read and control my fucking temper. You think I'd trust something this important to one of you morons?"

"What makes you think you can do everything? Just because you can fight doesn't mean that you have any finesse," Slingshot argued. "And, for the record, you don't. Have any. At all."

"Do you want me to punch you?" Spot threatened, clenching his fists and snarling at his second-in-command.

Slingshot squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Case in point," he muttered before looking at Spot. "Don't you think this job is more my style? Or at least fit for someone who doesn't immediately try to solve all his problems with violence?"

"I can't trust any of you morons with it," Spot replied, glaring at both of them as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Slingshot exchanged a look with Bam before speaking up. "You can't trust either of us with this but you can trust yourself? How is that smart?" he asked "Name someone with less diplomacy than you."

"I don't know what the fuck that word means," Spot answered, still glaring as he took a hit of his cigarette.

Bam massaged his forehead. "I wouldn't have assumed you did, since you never use it _ever_ ," he muttered loud enough for just Slingshot to hear.

"I don't think anyone in the room is surprised by that, Spot," Slingshot replied for both he and Bam as he rolled his eyes.

Spot glanced between the two of them, his eyes narrowing as he took another hit off his cigarette. "If you two morons are making fun of me I'm going to break both your arms."

"King should go," Stealth spoke up from the corner of the room where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Everyone but Spot jumped slightly in the seats, not even realizing he had been in the room.

"Holy fuck, you're creepy," Hunter said, clutching at his chest. He turned to Spot as soon as his heart had settled back down. "And you, there a reason you have so many god damn names? You tryna confuse everybody and their mother?"

"Stop yammering and enroll Spot," Slingshot snapped. Bam shot him an annoyed look that he dutifully ignored.

"'Sean', 'Spot', 'King'," Hunter muttered as he picked up his felt tipped pen (he had finally obtained it after Bam's fourth attempt, the stupid little shit) and started studying his document. "Nobody needs that many god damn names."

Sean nodded at Stealth in thanks. There was something to be said for not talking much; when you did people almost always listened to you. He'd have to remember that trick. He could implement it just as good as Stealth, if not better.

"Also," Hunter added as he put the finishing touches on the document, "those two morons were definitely making fun of you."

"No we weren't!" Bam and Slingshot both said immediately, their eyes wide as they looked towards their boss.

Spot just rolled his eyes as he looked towards Hunter and took another hit off his cigarette. "Don't be a fucking tattle tale, you pussy ass bitch," he commanded.

* * *

"I take it back," Bam said, trying his best to stifle his laughter. "I think it's wonderful you're going to school. It'll do wonders for your reputation."

"Do you want to die? Just because I'm in this stupid thing doesn't mean I can't kick your ass," Spot snapped. He raised his arms as he looked at his outfit: shiny brown penny loafers with too-high white socks, grey shorts that came right above the knee with a matching jacket, and a pressed white shirt buttoned all the way to his neck. He was supposed to have a bow tie as well, but he couldn't figure out how to put the damn thing on. "And if anyone says anything about this I will rip out your spleen and shove it into your kidneys," he growled.

Bam hid his grin behind his hand. "For some reason, I'm having a really hard time taking any of your threats seriously. No clue why."

"You're the one who insisted on being the one to go," Slingshot interrupted before Spot could try to back up his threat. He resolutely kept his face neutral as he picked the bowtie up from their kitchen table and wrapped it around Spot's neck. "I'll be surprised if you actually make it on campus. Catholic school? Honestly?" he shook his head as he tied Spot's bow tie. "... Of all the things."

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" Spot snapped, tilting his chin up so Slingshot had more room to work.

"It means if you made a deal with the devil to get your fighting abilities like everybody's been saying you're gonna burst into flames as soon as you get there," Bam explained with a smirk. "That is, if you don't get beat up along the way." He put a hand on his hip and looked Spot up and down. "There's no way you're making it through Brooklyn without getting jumped at _least_ once."

Spot immediately smirked. "Good, I'd love to kill something right now," he answered as his eyes narrowed. The shorts didn't give much in the way of flexibility, but he figured he could manage it.

"Don't you dare!" Slingshot yelled, smacking Spot in the back of his head as soon as he finished tying the bowtie. "I know that look," he accused, pointing at Spot. "You are not, under any circumstances, going to get into a fight while you're wearing this uniform. It took _forever_ to come up with enough cash for it. Not to mention all the fucking skipped meals this piece of shit cost us."

Spot crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Right, no blood. Got it."

"No _fighting_ , Spot," Slingshot corrected, glaring at his boss. "No rips, no tears, no dirt, no blood, no fucking _creases_ , you got it? The school's stupidly strict on cleaned and pressed uniforms, do you understand? And we can't afford to run out and buy another one of these overly expensive bullshit uniforms."

"I'm not a fucking idiot," Spot grumbled, no longer smirking as he tried to stretch his collar out. "I'm not going to fucking ruin anything."

"Yeah?" Bam spoke up from the couch, his face buried in a magazine. "You sure? That's kind of your forte, isn't it? You certainly ruined my life well enough," he grumbled.

"You were a bum selling your body for crack," Spot snapped, now pulling at his cuffs so his wrists could breath. "Talk about fucking sad and boring," he muttered. "At least your life has some excitement in it now."

Bam glared, dropping his magazine a little in order to look over the top of it. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that, you insensitive jerk. I was in a bad spot. In fact, I'm _still_ in a bad spot. Maybe even worse depending on what specific excitement you decide you want to start for the week."

Slingshot looked over at Bam before bringing his attention back to Spot, interrupting the two before they could start a fight with each other. "And as wonderful as you are at causing mischief and mayhem we're going for the exact _opposite_ this time around, _right_?" he asked with a pointed look. "Slip in and slip out. The less people that notice you exist the better. No anarchy, got me?"

Spot frowned before going back to pulling at his collar. "You really know how to suck all the fun out of everything, don't you?"

* * *

Spot tugged at his collar again as he stood facing the gates to the school. He breathed out, trying to force himself to be calm. So far it had only resulted in getting him more pissed off.

Bam put a hand on his shoulder. "Stop thinking about being calm, moron," he demanded with a roll of his eyes. "In fact, stop thinking altogether; it's never been your strong suit."

Spot turned to glare at him, but was stopped from saying anything by Slingshot.

"Don't tell him that!" he snapped from Spot's other side, reaching over to smack Bam in the back of the head. "You want this plan to go belly up, you idiot?"

"Oh, please," Bam scoffed, taking his hand off Spot's shoulder so he could rub the back of his head. "You worry too damn much. Spot'll be fine; he knows what he's doing."

"He never knows what he's doing!" Slingshot argued.

"I'll be _fine_ , Mom and Dad," Spot said, finally walking through the gates in front of him. "Just get back home and help Stealth keep an eye on Hunter until I can get back."

"Yes, sir," Slingshot and Bam both answered, Bam even giving a salute.

Spot sighed and rolled his eyes as he left them both behind. Honestly, this was a pretty stupid plan. He didn't know how to convince people to do things. He definitely wasn't eloquent. And he had no idea what to offer a rich kid. He had wanted to do this himself (it was his gang, after all), but he was already regretting not giving the job to Slingshot.

"This is fucking useless," Spot muttered to himself as he pushed through the crowds of students in the hall. "And fucking boring," he griped. He looked around him. "And where the fuck is the office? Everything looks the god damn same."

"The office is over on your right," a boy said with a smile. "You must be new here. I'm-"

"I don't give a fuck," Spot snapped before turning and walking through the door that had been directly to the right of him. Why couldn't they fucking just label things? And he probably could have fucking been nicer to that kid. Damn, he was already fucking this all up. He was too angry to deal with people.

He couldn't help it. There was something about the uniform or school or fucking something that was really pissing him the fuck off. The faster he got this fucking job done the better. Maybe he'd just skip all his fucking classes and devote all his time into finding this fucking kid. He might be able to get out of here with him today. That'd be fucking nice.

Fuck, he didn't even know what to say to the piece of shit when he _did_ find him.

' _Hey, how would you like to abandon everyone you know so you can drive me around?'_

' _Work for me or I'll bash your head into a wall.'_

' _You bored? Because I can make shit way more exciting for you. You like running from cops?'_

' _Wanna stick it to your parents? I can make you into a criminal.'_

_Fuck_ , Sling and Bam were right, he was fucking terrible at this shit.

* * *

Seth flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette as he looked out into the parking lot. The kids here had way too much fucking money; you could tell from the cars their parents let them drive. Lamborghinis, Bentleys, Vipers, Feraris, Jaguars, Porsches, BMWs, the list went on and on. It was too bad Seth couldn't conduct business at school; he was standing on a fucking goldmine. Rich fucks didn't know how good they had it.

"Still upset you don't have a car yet?" a voice said from behind him.

Seth turned around, forcing a smile when he recognized his roommate. Tom, who was basically the opposite of him in every way. Rich when he was poor, chubby when he was skinny, blonde hair when he had brown, loud and demanding when he was quiet and kept to himself. The only thing they had in common was their tall height. "Hey, Tom," Seth greeted before going back to looking at the parking lot. "Just being envious. There's no way my parents are going to buy me a car with grades like mine."

He was lying; his parents didn't have shit for money, and if they did they certainly wouldn't be handing it over to him. In fact, he was paying for school by himself from the cars he lifted and sold. But having no money didn't sit well with the people here, and he had to maintain his cover. No one would believe a rich kid from a private boarding school would be hijacking cars.

"Not like there's a whole lot of places to drive to anyway," Tom said, coming to stand by him and frowning down at his cigarette. "I thought you said you were going to quit. They can expel you for that, you know."

Seth frowned, realizing it for the threat it was. Tom was another rich fuck. He was one of the richest, in fact. His father was the fucking principal, for Christ's sake. At first, Seth had hated his luck when he realized who his roommate was, but it turned out Tom liked him for some fucked up reason, which was his ticket to not getting caught going off campus.

Still, he owed Tom a lot of favors for looking the other way, which was a fact the douchebag was never going to let him forget.

So far, Seth had played nice, but he couldn't help but grate his teeth at some of the things Tom took for granted. Like the Aston Martin One the little fuck drove around like it was a god damn Prius. And, yeah, Seth could admit that jealousy definitely had something to do with his intense dislike of his roommate. But anyone who was forced to see a fucking sixteen-year-old kid drive around in a car worth over a million dollars would be pretty fucking jealous too.

And the fact that Tom drove around in it like it was fucking nothing was enough to make Seth want to rip his god damn throat out.

"Seth? You okay, buddy?"

Seth jerked out of his thoughts as he heard his name. He gave Tom another smile when he realized he'd been glaring at the parking lot. What the hell had Tom been talking about? Fucking cigarettes or something? "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just stressed out," he said, flicking his cigarette out into the parking lot. "Just because I know I should quit those stupid things doesn't make it any easier, you know it?"

Tom nodded his head. "Yeah, I can imagine. Must be hard, huh?"

_I'll give you something hard right up your ass if you ruin another cigarette for me, you fucking cunt._

God, if only Seth could actually say it. Instead, he smiled, nodding his head back. "I'll get there eventually. I've got to. Can't waste my education on a habit that's going to kill me, can I?"

"Not to mention," Tom said in a quiet voice, looking around as he scrunched up his nose, "it makes you look kind of poor, dude. No offense."

Seth had to resist the urge to cram his lighter so far up Tom's nose it caused brain damage. "God forbid people think I don't have a trust fund."

Tom nodded his head, and Seth found himself once again grateful that Tom did not seem to register sarcasm at all.

"Yo, you two douchebags," a short, scrawny kid called out before coming over to them.

Tom cocked his head, evidently trying to place him. Seth didn't need to bother; there was no one at this school that acted like that.

"I'm sorry, were you talking to us?" Tom asked, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest. Seth could tell the 'My Daddy Is The Principal Speech' was quickly approaching.

"You see any other douchebags around? Jesus, does Catholic school just automatically make people fucking stupid?" The kid said, squaring up to Tom and seeming unintimidated at the fact that he was almost a head shorter.

Tom immediately narrowed his eyes, and Seth settled in to watch the show. He didn't like Tom in the slightest, but he disliked pompous assholes even more. And Tom did make a good show of pushing his weight around.

Tom leaned down so he was eye level with the kid. "I think you should watch your fucking mouth," he said with a smirk. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

"I could say the same thing about you," the boy growled out. "You're pissing me off."

Seth couldn't help but widen his eyes at that. He had already figured the kid was new, but Tom's face was plastered on every wall of school, right beside his father. There was no way the idiot didn't know who he was talking to. On the other hand, rich kids were pretty stupid; maybe he thought his family was more powerful than Tom's?

"You need to learn some fucking manners, halfpint," Tom said. "I'd happily be the one to teach them to you," he offered with a smirk. "Who's your family?"

The boy took a step back, his snarling face quickly changing to one of confusion. "I'm about to smash your face into the concrete and you're asking me who the fuck my family is? What the fuck does _that_ matter?"

Tom took a step back as well, quickly matching the other boy's confused stance. He forced out a laugh. "You're kidding, right?"

The boy cocked his head at him. "Why the fuck would I be kidding? What the fuck is wrong with this god damn place?"

"Tom's father is the principal around here," Seth interrupted, deciding against his better judgement to take pity on the boy.

That just made the boy round his glare onto him. "And what the fuck does _that_ matter?"

"It means I can have you expelled, you idiot," Tom snarled as he got his metaphorical footing back. "My father's the law around here. I can make your life hell, or double your tuition, or make your family wish they had never even heard of New York City."

The kid turned to Seth while jerking his thumb at Tom. "Is he fucking serious with this fucking shit?"

Seth nodded. "It's not a joke. I'm surprised you didn't already know. I'd just be glad he doesn't know your name yet. Apologize now and cut your loses. He might forgive you." Tom wouldn't, of course, on general principal, but maybe Seth could talk to him; make him go easy on the ignorant kid.

The kid turned back to Tom. "My name's Sean Conlon," he said calmly, drawing up his leg and kicking Tom directly in the thigh. He snarled as Tom landed hard on the ground, hands clenched around his leg. "And I hate little shits who depend on their daddies to get what they want." He leaned over Tom as he thrashed on the ground. "Think Daddy can fix a broken leg for you, you little bitch?"

* * *

"What the fuck is he thinking?" Slingshot asked angrily, throwing down the binoculars he was using to spy on the school. He turned towards Stealth who was on the roof with him. "He hasn't even been there a fucking day and he's already hurt someone! How is this undercover? He's fucking everything up!" he ranted.

Stealth picked up the binoculars, but instead of looking through them he just looked at them.

Slingshot began to pace. "Jesus fuck, what do you think they'll do now? At the very least he'll be suspended, which'll delay our schedule for who knows how long." He grabbed his head as he abruptly stopped his pacing. "And it's been fucking _hours_! Even if they settle on just a suspension he's just going to go back in there and do the exact same thing!"

Slingshot looked over at Stealth, waiting for him to speak, but Stealth just stared back.

"Of course, you're right," Slingshot replied to nothing. "That guy he just fucking kicked was big time; the dean's son or principal's son or some shit. There's no way this is going over lightly. So, we're probably looking at expulsion. Within hours of Spot getting into the school. After we worked for weeks entering him into the system and getting him his stupid fucking uniform. Jesus Fucking Christ, the little bastard can't do anything right, can he?"

"He could probably beat you up alright," Stealth answered quietly, staring at the school. Slingshot didn't hear him.

"I should've went in the first place. Now we have to do all that work all over again to get _me_ in the system." Slingshot massaged his forehead. "And it's not like I can fit into the uniform we bought for Spot. Oh, fuck, all that money, though! It's going to take us _weeks_ to be able to afford another one!"

When Slingshot looked back at Stealth he was pointing at the school building. He walked over and took the binoculars from him, his eyes becoming wide when he saw the cruisers entering through the main gates. "Cops? They called the fucking cops? What the fuck? Now I have to worry about fucking bail money, too?"

Stealth shook his head before jumping onto the next roof, heading towards the school.

"No fucking way, dude. Absolutely not," Slingshot objected even as he followed behind him. "I am not about to take on some fucking cops so Spot doesn't have to spend a few hours in jail. This shit is way above my pay grade!"

But Stealth kept moving towards the school and Slingshot kept following him.

* * *

Spot slipped out of the principal's office as soon as everyone was properly distracted by the sirens. The cops? They called the fucking cops? What the fuck? Over one fucking broken bone? Who the fuck were these people? It was _one_ fucking broken leg, It wasn't even illegal.

It _wasn't_ illegal, was it? Spot paused at the thought before shrugging and rounding the corner. It didn't really matter if it was or not; he had no plans on being caught. It _did_ , however, put a damper on primary plans. How the fuck was he supposed to find a student here if he wasn't fucking allowed on grounds?

Slingshot should have definitely been the one to come. He hadn't even finished out his first day, for Christ's sake, and now he was running around avoiding cops. He didn't even get a chance to fucking ask around for Speed. He couldn't believe he just completely and utterly fucked everything up. Fuck. _Fuck_.

Spot was halted in his tracks as he rounded a corner and ran into a body. He quickly jumped back, fists raised as he readied himself to smash his way through some piece of shit cops.

Instead, the other boy raised his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide. "You're that guy from earlier, yeah? You smashed Tom's leg up good, man. He just left in an ambulance."

"If he wasn't such a pussy he coulda walked it off," Spot replied, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. "Now get the fuck out of my way."

"The cops got called, did you know that? Did they already let you go, or-" The boy's eyes widened as realization hit him. He leaned in close but did nothing to quiet his voice. "Are you _running_ from the police, dude?"

"Shut the fuck up, and get the hell out of my way," Spot snapped, shoving the kid against the wall as he continued on his way, now getting stares as people talked loudly about who he was and what he was doing. "Jesus _fucking_ Christ," he growled as he reached forward and punched the boy who was unfortunate enough to be close to him. "Do you fucking idiots even know the meaning of shutting up and minding your own business?"

Spot continued moving, shoving anyone within reach out of his way as he headed for the front door, cursing the entire time. Seth followed close behind him.

"You're really going straight out the front door?" Seth asked. "You do know that's where they parked the police cruiser, don't you?"

Spot whirled around to face the annoying kid, a snarl on his face. "Yes, I'm heading directly to the fucking cop car so I can turn myself in," he said, clenching his fist. "Are you a fucking idiot? I don't know where anything in this fucking school is."

The boy held up his hands again, the second time within a minute. "Hey, I didn't know. Maybe you were going outside to set the car on fire or something."

Spot turned back around to look towards the front door. He _did_ have a lighter. And it'd certainly provide an adequate distraction in order for him to get away. And he'd have one less cop car to worry about in the grand scheme of things, and there was never anything wrong with that.

Seth's eyes widened as he realized what the other boy was thinking. He grabbed his arm and started pulling him away from the door. "I'll show you the back way. Almost no one uses it," he said. "You're a maniac, you know that? I never thought I'd ever see anyone standing up to Tom, let alone break his leg." He looked over his shoulder. "The name's Seth, by the way."

Spot scowled before jerking out of the guy's hold. "Why the fuck do I give a fuck what your name is? Or what the fuck you think of me? Shut the fuck up and show me how to get out of here."

Seth paused before nodding and continuing on his way. He had seen what this guy could do when he was annoyed; he certainly didn't want to get in between him and jail. "Anyway, it's just up ahead here, past the locker room in the gym. People use it to get to the football field, but you just need to walk around the field to get to the back parking lot. I was there a few minutes ago and no one was out there, but I can check again before you go out."

"Jesus fuck," Spot muttered. "Do you ever shut the fuck up? I need to leave the school, not diffuse a fucking bomb. Fuck, you're annoying."

* * *

Slingshot had just finished ripping the communication radio out of the police cruiser when the door behind him opened. He tried to spin around but he wasn't fast enough, and soon found himself pressed up against the hood of the cruiser. He immediately went limp, having been in police custody enough to know that resistance was futile.

"You're a fucking idiot giving your back to the door like that," came Spot's gruff voice.

" _You're_ a fucking idiot for getting into a fight on your first day of school," Slingshot answered back, halfheartedly taking a swing at his boss as soon as he was let go.

Spot shrugged and dodged simultaneously in a way that only Spot could. "He annoyed me."

"You're _always_ annoyed," Slingshot snapped back. "And what the fuck are we supposed to do now? I take it you were expelled if they went as far as calling the police."

"You don't know that the police are for me," Spot argued, crossing his arms.

Slingshot frowned at him, but opted not to say anything. The door suddenly swung open again and he crouched down, making sure he was ready to take down the threat this time around.

A boy came out, his shirt ruffled and blood oozing from a cut on top of his head.

Slingshot relaxed his stance to glare at Spot. " _Another_ one?"

"He annoyed me," Spot replied, shrugging again.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I wasn't _annoying_ you," the boy snapped. "I was helping you not get caught by the cops, and then you ran my head through a locker for absolutely no reason."

"Because you were talking too much," Spot reasoned. He frowned at the boy before turning his attention to Slingshot and glaring. "I'm not even sure why the fuck you're here in the first place. Didn't I tell you to watch Hunter?"

"Yeah, and I made sure someone was on it before I came here to save _your_ ass," Slingshot replied. "You should be happy I did; the cops would be all over this place if I hadn't intervened."

Spot gave a silent snort. "Yeah, you came here all by yourself to save me. More like you followed Stealth here, you idiot," he muttered, just loud enough for Slingshot to hear before speaking in a louder voice. "Exactly who is it that's supposed to be watching Hunter?"

"Bam," Slingshot said, crossing his arm and tilting his chin up. "He'll be fine with Hunter for a few hours. He should be able to control his temper until we get back."

Spot narrowed his eyes before jerking his head towards something behind Slingshot. "You better mean a different Bam," he growled, "because the only Bam I know just decked a teacher and is decidedly _not_ in the presence of Hunter."

Slingshot spun around, his eyes widening as he saw Bam coming towards them, an adult face down on the ground just behind him.

"Hiya, boss," Bam greeted with a smile and a wave. "Man, you sure know how to have a good time, huh? Jesus, should've taken bets on how fast you'd fuck it up. Bet I coulda made an assload."

"Bam," Slingshot grit out when Spot gave him a pointed look. "You're supposed to be home with Hunter. Where the _fuck_ is Hunter?"

"Who? Oh, um … " Bam put a finger to his lips as he looked around. He perked up immediately as soon as he found him, pointing a finger in his direction. "There he is! Looks like that cop's got him!"

Slingshot smacked himself on the forehead. "I work with complete fucking idiots," he muttered. He looked towards Spot to apologize, only to see him sprinting towards Hunter. "Oh, Jesus fuck, Spot! We can't _all_ go to jail!" he shouted before taking off after him.

"Hiya!" Bam said, waving again, this time to the kid he didn't know. "You in on this action, then? I'm Bam," he greeted, extending his hand.

"Er … I'm Seth. And I'm not really sure what type of action it is I'm getting into," Seth said, hesitantly shaking Bam's hand.

"No one ever knows what type of action they're getting into with Spot," Bam explained. "But it's usually fun." He frowned. "Pretty life threatening most of the time, but it certainly beats babysitting good for nothing pieces of shit."

Seth just blinked at him. "Who are you guys?" He stared a bit longer before looking down at his hand that had yet to be released from Bam's hold.

Bam rolled his eyes. "You deaf? I just told you: I'm Bam," he said before turning and pulling Seth with him thanks to their still-interlocked hands. "C'mon, Spot ran over here."

Seth's eyes widened as he was pulled along in the direction of Spot and a handful of police officers. This place had provided him with the low profile he needed for years, and now, within the span of one hour, these strangers were going to completely ruin everything he had worked so hard for.

"I don't understand why you're getting mad at _me_ ," some kid was yelling as Spot kept most of the officers busy. " _I'm_ the god damn hostage! _He's_ the one who brought me here. The little bastard even gave me a black eye when I told him he was being an idiot," he said, pointing to his right eye that did indeed look bruised.

Slingshot immediately swung to give his attention to Bam. "I don't even know what the fuck I'm going to do with _you_. What the fuck were you even thinking?"

"He annoyed me," Bam replied with a shrug.

Spot ignored him, addressing Slingshot instead. "What the fuck were _you_ thinking?" he asked, his voice coming out even despite all the running and dodging he was doing. "You shouldn't have left the house in the first place, you idiot. Does it look like I need babysat?"

Slingshot watched as his boss ducked to avoid a police baton before shooting back up and punching the officer in the side of the head, sending him to the ground. "You do realize that you're the reason the cops are here, right?"

"Miscalculation," Spot grunted as he got tased. He quickly whirled around to face him. He kicked out with his foot, connecting with the officer's stomach and sending him to the ground as well. "And as far as I can tell I'm doing a pretty good job of fixing it."

"Yeah, this is an ideal situation," Slingshot replied. "Everything's going according to plan, right? Though I'd appreciate next time if you told me that the plan was for you to _go to jail_."

"Can you morons shut the hell up so we can get out of here?" Hunter snapped. "One of the things my job calls for is to be anonymous, which you two bozos are fucking up _royally_."

"No one asked you to come," Bam snapped, still holding onto the boy he had dragged with him.

"You were supposed to be watching him," Slingshot snapped right back. "You better be fucking glad he came and didn't run off somewhere."

" _You_ better be fucking glad he came and didn't run off somewhere," Spot said, glaring at his second in command as he smoothed the wrinkles in his uniform now that all the officers were down.

Slingshot frowned at all the tears and blood the uniform had managed to acquire in a matter of minutes, but decided to stay quiet about it for the moment. Now wasn't exactly the ideal time to be arguing with Spot.

"And who the fuck is that?" Spot asked, looking at Bam before jerking his head towards Seth.

"I'm the one that helped you find the back door, you asshole," Seth snapped, largely being ignored.

Bam smiled as he looked between Spot and the boy whose hand he was still holding. "I made a friend!"

"Well, you can't keep him," Spot answered. "He's useless." He glanced around before seeing Stealth waiting for them on the roof of the school's indoor garage. He didn't offer any of them a second glance as he started heading in that direction.

Bam stood frowning. "Why can't I keep him?"

"Not right now, Bam," Slingshot ordered, squeezing his shoulder before following after his boss.

"Jesus Christ, about time we got out of this piece of shit place," Hunter grumbled before running after them.

Bam turned his frown on Seth, finally releasing his hand so he could pat him on the back. "I don't think you're useless."

It was all Seth could do not to flinch at the unexpected contact.

* * *

"This is all useless," Spot grunted out as he threw another plate at the wall. "I need to get back in there! I didn't even get a chance to track the little bastard down."

" _You_ need to get back in there?" Slingshot answered, shooting up from his chair and gesturing wildly at his boss. "How long do you think you're going to last this time around? Three hours instead of two? Not to mention you're expelled! They'll just end up calling the cops on you. _Again_."

"I think Slingshot should go," Bam spoke quietly from the couch. He shot a look over to Stealth, knowing that if anyone could convince Spot of anything it'd be him. "Don't you think so?"

Stealth just stared at him.

" _Slingshot_ isn't going anywhere," Spot demanded. "He's not even competent enough to watch pissant over there," he said, jerking his head in Hunter's direction.

Hunter immediately raised up one of his hands from his seat at the table. "For the record, I prefer hostage over pissant. Speaking of the whole hostage thing-"

"Shut the fuck up already," Bam commanded loudly, glaring at Hunter. "You're annoying as fuck and you aren't helping with anything!"

"The both of you shut the fuck up," Slingshot interrupted, his voice louder than Bam's. "You're both acting like children! And I've about had it with the two of you."

" _Everyone_ shut the fuck up!" Spot screamed, hurling their last plate at the wall. "You stupid fucking shits are pissing me the fuck off. Just shut the fuck up so I can think," he commanded, rubbing at his forehead as he started pacing.

Slingshot watched his boss pace for a minute or two before finally speaking up. "I don't understand why you're so insistent on doing this alone. There is such a thing as getting help, you know. You're talking about breaking into the school just to hunt some ghost. We have no idea how to get to Speed. Let alone who-"

"Speed?" Hunter interrupted, leaning forward in his chair as his eyes widened. "You guys are trying to recruit Speed? Are you shitting me? That guy isn't going to sign up with you idiots; he's making way too much money on his own."

"We could offer him protection, give him some type of insurance," Slingshot suggested. "A place to hide his cars out for a bit before he finds a suitable buyer maybe."

"You're an idiot," Spot snapped before walking over to Hunter. He braced his hands on the table and leaned towards him as he glared. "Where can I find him? Who the fuck is he?"

"What the fuck do you mean 'who the fuck is he'?" Hunter asked, leaning back to create some distance between them. "You went to that school to get him, didn't you? And you found him before we left. Mission accomplished, right?"

Spot grabbed Hunter by his shirt and jerked him forward, so they were nose to nose. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he growled, "but you better start fucking explaining it to me,"

"Explaining _what_?" Hunter asked, his eyes wide. "There's nothing to explain! Speed was with you! Or you were with Speed! I don't know! But he was there."

"Seth is Speed?" Bam asked, connecting the dots and leaning forward on the couch as he regarded Hunter. "No way!" He exclaimed, jumping from the couch and pumping a fist in the air. "You shoulda let me keep him! I _knew_ he was important!"

"Who the fuck are you talking about?" Spot snapped, letting go of Hunter in order to advance on Bam.

"Seth!" Bam replied, standing his ground even as Spot stalked towards him. "You remember that guy you told me was useless?"

Spot stopped walking and frowned, trying to remember anyone being there he hadn't known apart from cops. He was drawing a blank.

Slingshot, meanwhile, rolled his eyes before getting up and walking over to the two of them. "You called him useless?" he asked, his arms crossed. "Great first impression, Boss."

Spot crossed his arms right back. "He _was_ being useless," he argued, despite still not remembering the boy. "Just because he can drive and steal cars doesn't mean he's good at anything else."

"That doesn't matter! You can't just go around telling people they're useless!" Slingshot argued. "You think that inspires confidence? You think it inspires loyalty? Stop acting like you're better than everyone else!"

"Shut the fuck up," Spot commanded. "You think you're my fucking mother or something? You don't get a say in how I live my life. Fuck you."

"If I don't who the fuck will?" Slingshot asked. "In case you haven't noticed you're completely out of control! We'll never get anything accomplished if all you ever do is run around beating people up! I refuse to be a part of your anarchy!"

"No one _fucking_ asked you to," Spot snapped. "If you have a problem with how I run things then you can-"

" _King_ ," Stealth said, his voice loud and forceful enough to cut through his boss's words. He didn't wait for a reply before he turned around and walked off down the hall.

Spot glared at his back before turning and looking over at his second in command. "This isn't fucking over," he snapped before following Stealth.

Slingshot let out a sigh as soon as Spot had left the room. "This has turned into such a fucking mess. Spot's never going to let this go, and it's just going to get worse and worse until everything comes to a head. Which'll probably be Spot's death or imprisonment."

Bam interlaced his fingers behind his head. "You're really pessimistic, huh? You don't think Spot can do it?"

"I don't think Spot can do half of the things he thinks he can do," Slingshot answered. "I also think he's a proud, pompous ass who is never going to ask for help, despite the fact that he sucks at recruiting people and talking to people and being subtle. We're never going to be able to accomplish anything if this is the way he's going to be."

"Yeah? So what're you going to do about it?" Hunter asked, leaning forward in his chair with a glint in his eye. "Mutiny? Bow out?"

"You wanna mutiny?" Bam asked, his eyes wide as he looked toward Slingshot.

" _No_! I _have_ not ever and _would_ not ever say that!" Slingshot replied quickly. He looked around the room wildly, as if Spot would suddenly jump out from behind a wall. He pointed to Hunter. "This bastard's just trying to stir shit up. It'd make it a lot easier for him to leave if we were fighting amongst ourselves, wouldn't it?"

Bam looked over to Hunter to see him rolling his eyes. "That's true," he decided, "but beside the point. What's our plan of attack if Spot isn't able to get Speed?"

"Who says we have to do anything?" Slingshot asked with a shrug. "This whole gang thing is a joke as it is. I don't even see the point of recruiting Speed. Spot doesn't care about the guys we _already_ have. He refuses to even meet them, for god's sake."

"But if we leave Spot to do it himself then he'll either get himself killed or go to prison," Bam said. "Then what'll we do?"

"Ah, so that's the plan then," Hunter said, smirking at Slingshot. "Wait until Spot disappears so you can take over. That's pretty genius. Why cause a mutiny when Spot's already ensuring he won't be around much longer?"

"Stop talking about a fucking mutiny!" Slingshot snapped. "There's nothing to even mutiny over, god damn it! There's no fucking territory, no fucking loyal members, no fucking reputation, this whole thing is one gigantic shit show!"

"I'm a loyal member," Bam said, glaring at Slingshot. "And I thought you were, too."

"You wanted to kill Spot less than a month ago!" Slingshot snapped back. "And now suddenly you're willing to follow him? That just makes you crazier than he is!"

"I'm not crazy!" Bam argued back. "I'm loyal! The guy saved my life!"

"He's also the one that put your life in danger, in case you've forgotten!" Slingshot reminded him. "And he's going to put it in danger again and again and again, because he doesn't care about anything other than his absurd dream of _owning_ everyone!"

"If that's how you feel then why are you even here?" Bam asked.

"Fuck if I know," Slingshot grumbled.

* * *

Spot continued to glare at Stealth as he listened to the yelling that was going on in his living room. "So I need to calm down," he admitted when the yelling finally quieted and he was no longer able to hear.

"A king needs to inspire loyalty above all else," Stealth said quietly. "You need to allow your followers to contribute, both for them and for yourself."

Spot slid down the wall he had been leaning against in order to sit on the floor. "What if they fuck it up?"

"What if you do?" Stealth asked as he sat down across from his king. "Nothing is set in stone. You need to be able to trust."

"Why the hell should I? They've never done anything on their own."

"You've never let them."

Spot frowned at this but didn't say anything. They sat looking at each other for a full minute before Stealth broke the silence.

"You'll never trust anyone if you don't give them a chance."

"I trust you," Spot told him, his voice barely audible in the quiet.

"You've also given me plenty of chances."

Spot sighed before running his hands through his hair. "This is harder than I thought," he grumbled, still quiet. "So what do I do then? I just switch myself out for Slingshot?"

Stealth shrugged. "The choice is yours, my king. Follow your instincts."

"They haven't really been doing me much good today, have they?"

Stealth caught his eye and held it for a few seconds before finally speaking. "No one's going to trust you if you don't trust yourself."

"You sound like a god damn fortune cookie," Spot replied with no malice before sighing and running his hands through his hair again.

"The Chinese are a wise people."

Spot let out a silent snort as he smirked at his friend. He picked himself up off the floor before offering Stealth his hand. "Let's go see about this fucking mutiny then, shall we?"

Stealth nodded before taking his hand and following him back into the living room where silence welcomed them.

"I think Bam should go," Spot said calmly as he crossed the room to sit on the couch.

"It's interesting how much you don't seem to want _Slingshot_ to go," Hunter said from his place at the kitchen table. "One would think that you don't trust him."

"Do you stay up at night thinking of the best ways to annoy me?" Spot asked, eyes narrowed but voice still calm. He looked towards Bam. "You already know this guy, right?"

"'Know' is probably an exaggeration," Bam replied. "I just met him for a few minutes. _You're_ the one he was following around."

Spot smacked himself on the forehead. "Does _everyone_ stay up at night thinking of the best ways to annoy me?" He muttered to himself. "Fuck it, if we're going to talk about things like a bunch of pussies we might as well decide things like them to. Let's vote. All in favor of-"

"You think a democratic-based system is a pussy system? I don't think how the Founding Fathers creating our government can be described as anything relating to pussy, except maybe that they got a lot of it," Hunter interrupted.

Spot leaned over so that he was speaking directly into Hunter's ear. "I will still cut your tongue out," he threatened quietly before straightening back up and addressing the entire room. "All in favor of Bam going?" he asked, raising his hand. He looked around the room, realizing he was the only one in favor of this suggestion. He quirked an eyebrow at Bam. "Don't even want to vote for yourself, huh?"

Bam cocked his head to the side. "That's kind of pompous, don't cha think? I was saving my vote for you."

"Fine," Spot replied, rolling his eyes. "All in favor of me going back?" He asked, looking around to see only Bam's hand in the air. He looked toward Slingshot. "Can I assume you're saving your vote for yourself?"

"Yes, sir," Slingshot replied, nodding his head as he forced himself to maintain eye contact with his boss.

"Anyone else for Slingshot?" Spot asked, looking towards Stealth, who had yet, and was still not raising his hand. Spot arched an eyebrow at him. "You trying to vote for yourself, too, Stealth?" he asked with a smirk.

"Doesn't matter," Hunter replied, waving his hand in the air. "I'm for Slingshot. That makes it one to one to one to two. We win!" He declared, bouncing up from his chair.

"Who's _'we'_?" Slingshot asked, scowling at him.

"I'm pretty sure in a democratic system prisoners of war can't vote," Spot snapped, his arms crossed as he watched Hunter bounce around the room.

"He just wants to start trouble, sir," Slingshot said, looking towards Spot. "Please ignore him. You're the leader. I'll respect your decision. If you would like to try to recruit Speed again I will stand by you, or if you'd prefer to send in Bam I'll respect that too, sir."

Spot narrowed his eyes at him. "Nothing like talk of a mutiny to get you to actually do what I want, huh? I'll have to remember that the next time we can't agree on something."

Slingshot's eyes widened, but he forced himself to keep eye contact with Spot. "I would never start a mutiny, sir. That was never-"

"Yeah, yeah," Spot said, rolling his eyes. "Stop being boring and tell me what the fuck you want to do." He frowned at his second in command. "And for the love of god, Sling, nobody likes a suck up. Stop with the 'sir' shit."

"Yes, sir," Slingshot said, immediately putting his hands up as Spot cocked his fist back for a punch. "That was a joke!" he declared with wide eyes and a smile on his face.

Spot rolled his eyes again, matching Slingshot's smile as he finally sat back down. "So, let's hear plans then, if you two are so insistent on being included in things."

"I say Slingshot should go in," Hunter said, catching the glare of everyone else in the room.

"God, you're fucking annoying," Bam muttered before looking between Slingshot and Spot. "It's you guys that've got such a problem with all of this. I don't care who goes, or if we all go, or if we send the Queen of England. Honestly, I just wanna get this the hell over with."

"It wouldn't be a terrible idea to send in a group of us," Slingshot said quietly, looking immediately at Spot for approval. He continued on when his boss did nothing but raise an eyebrow at him. "It's going to be dangerous sending just one person in, especially since I can only assume that the cops'll be watching that place now. There's nothing that says we can't send in multiple people. One to infiltrate the school and two more to watch his back."

Spot shook his head. "Fuck waiting long enough to infiltrate again. If Speed has an intelligent bone in his body then he was thinking about evacuation plans as soon as the cops saw him with us. We've gotta move now. If we wait until everything's set up again for someone there he'll already be gone."

Slingshot rubbed his forehead. "So now we're talking about breaking into the school? That definitely calls for more than just one person. We waiting for night?"

Spot shook his head. "No, we already know he smokes, so we know if we're patient we can catch him outside alone."

"You really think you can be patient?" Slingshot asked him. "That's not necessarily your strong suit, you know?"

"You, Bam, and Stealth are going. I'm staying here with douche-weasel," Spot said, jerking his thumb in Hunter's direction. "You want us to trust each other?" He asked, looking at all three of them before fixing his gaze on Stealth. "Prove to me you're worth the headache."

Slingshot's mouth dropped open before he quickly closed it again. He jerked upright in his chair so his back was straight before nodding at his boss. "Leave it to me, sir."

Stealth gave Spot a small nod to show he approved, as Bam bounced a little in his seat.

"Finally!" Bam exclaimed with a smile. "This is going to be a blast!"

* * *

"So how much longer am I going to be here after those three idiots fuck everything up?" Hunter asked as he paced the length of the living room.

Spot studied his game of solitaire as he sat at the kitchen table, not bothering to look up at his prisoner. "You're going to be here for however long I need you." He played a Jack on a Queen. "And then, when I do let you go, you're going to be grateful that I didn't decide to kill you, despite the fact that you seem to ask for it multiple times a day."

"You call them idiots all the time!" Hunter exclaimed. "How come you can do it and I can't?"

"Because they aren't _your_ idiots," Spot explained before finally looking up. "And you're purposely trying to rock the boat. It won't work," he told him before going back to concentrating on his solitare game.

"This whole place is fucking weird," Slingshot said, crossing his arms as he plopped himself down on the couch with a scowl on his face. "I've never met a gang who's members were so loud about how much they disagreed with how things are run, but refuse to ever leave or mutiny."

"Regular gangs are stupid," Spot commented as he shifted some cards around. "I don't want a regular gang; I want a fucking fantastic gang, and you can't have a fantastic gang with drone followers and a pussy-ass ruler."

Hunter frowned at him. "Do you realize that you're being horribly offensive every time you talk? Or do you not even think about it?"

"I know I don't take advice from pussy-ass douchebags who should've been killed ages ago," Spot replied, not looking up from his card game.

"So you don't even think about it then," Hunter replied, narrowing his eyes at Spot. "You do realize you need me, right? Cause there's no way Speed is going to willingly sign on with you, so you're going to need me to find you someone else. You can't exactly make an enemy out of me."

"I can certainly rip your tongue out of your head," Spot muttered as he put down a card. "Not like I wanna be friends or anything. Threatening you works just fine by me."

"Hey, now, I was joking," Hunter replied, lifting up his hands in front of him in a surrendering gesture. "No reason to start ripping off body parts."

Spot gave a silent snort, still giving his full attention to his card game. After half a minute he jerked up, checking the room wildly before his gaze settled on Hunter. He narrowed his eyes. "I just got a really bad feeling."

* * *

"Bam, would you slow down? You're running there just so you can spend more time waiting on a rooftop!"Slingshot shouted as he tried to keep up with the younger boy.

"What if he's smoking right now though?" Bam shouted, shooting a look behind him before turning to look back ahead. "Ah, man, this is so cool! This is my first assignment, you know! I'm gonna _kill_ it!"

Slingshot turned towards Stealth, who was running right beside him. "You hear that? First mission. I would have never guessed," he said while rolling his eyes.

Stealth looked at him for a few seconds before going back to looking in front of him, being sure not to slow his pace.

"You really need to learn to lighten up," Slingshot muttered to himself before yelling out to the boy in front of him. "Oi, Bam, slow the fuck down already! We're close to the school; don't need to get separated."

"How the fuck are you going to lose me?" Bam asked, looking behind him. "I got this shit," he declared before misstepping and suddenly disappearing from the roof.

"Fuck!" Slingshot shouted, picking up his pace as he ran to where Bam had fallen from the roof. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he muttered as he made his way over and looked down.

"It was only a one-story building," Stealth said quietly from beside him before jumping down onto a dumpster and making his way over to the younger boy.

"Yeah, he can't possibly be hurt if he only fell ten fucking feet onto solid concrete," Slingshot snapped as he fell into step behind Stealth.

"I've seen King fall from worse," Stealth replied calmly, walking over to Bam and poking his motionless body in the side with the toe of his boot.

"Just because the inhuman killing machine can withstand practically anything doesn't mean normal humans can," Slingshot replied with a frown before stooping down and placing two fingers on Bam's neck. "You with us, kiddo?"

" 'M not a kid," Bam muttered back before wincing. " 'M real hurt though."

Slingshot sighed as he shook his head. "This is why you shouldn't run on rooftops. Jesus. Can you move at all? What hurts?"

"Everything," Bam moaned. "I don't know if I can move."

"Just try," Slingshot encouraged him. "Fingers first, okay?"

Stealth didn't wait for the diagnosis, instead striding over and picking Bam up by his armpits and setting him on his feet before starting to climb back onto the rooftop.

"Shit, Stealth! He could've broken his back or something and you would've just paralyzed him!" Slingshot shouted, quickly going over to Bam and trying to support some of his weight.

"We have a schedule to keep," Stealth explained, before going on ahead.

"I'm- I'm okay," Bam said quietly, rubbing at the back of his head as he sniffled.

"No, you aren't," Slingshot replied. "You just fell off a god damn roof."

"We've got a schedule to keep," Bam replied, pulling away from Slingshot and dusting himself off. "Spot'll never forgive me if I mess this up."

Slingshot rolled his eyes. "Spot's already assumed we messed this up," he muttered to himself before looking towards Bam. "Fine," he agreed, "We'll keep on the stupid schedule, but no more roofs for you, got it? You definitely can't afford to take two tumbles in one fucking day."

"Don't tell Spot, okay?" Bam asked in a quiet voice. "I'm sure he already thinks I'm incompetent."

"You _are_ incompetent," Slingshot muttered quiet enough that Bam couldn't hear. He patted him on the shoulder. "Secret's safe with me, kid," he said before taking off towards the school, using the sidewalks this time around.

"And stop calling me 'kid'," Bam demanded, limping behind him. "You're ruining my reputation."

"You don't _have_ a reputation," Slingshot snapped back.

TBC

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason Bam doesn't do combat. Haha.
> 
> It's hard to believe that the Brooklyn boys were only created to be fillers; someone for Spot to command around. Now they all have their own personalities and backstories. Their interactions are so fun to write! Three more chapters about Past!Spot and then they'll be done. Hopefully they're helping explain some of the things going on between the original gang and the Brooklyn gang.


	6. Speed or How Spot Became Patient

Bam: Age 12  
Sean: Age 13  
Slingshot: Age 14  
Stealth: Age 15  
Speed: Age 17  
Hunter: Age 17

Seth's roommate was spending the next few days under surveillance at the hospital, thanks to Sean Conlon, a kid who had spent one day in school before getting expelled and becoming wanted by the police. Despite the oddness of the whole situation Speed found that he enjoyed it; it'd been ages since he had a room to himself.

He had spent the last twenty minutes arguing with himself about the pros and cons of smoking in the room before finally deciding that he probably shouldn't risk it. It was nearing midnight, and while most of the dorm was asleep, that didn't guarantee that the smell wouldn't linger until morning.

So, reluctantly, he padded through the dorm hallways and went outside, not even bothering to put his shoes on.

He needed to figure out who those guys were. Did someone send them for him? Or was it just a coincidence? He couldn't afford to take risks. If his cover was about to get blown then he needed to make sure that he was gone first, especially without Tom here to watch his back.

Seth lit up his cigarette and took a drag. He should leave, even if those guys hadn't come here for him. He'd gotten by so far by being cautious, and he couldn't afford not to be, especially if he wanted to keep in the same area.

The problem was he didn't know any other boarding schools in Brooklyn, and even if he came across one it would be hard to get accepted this late in the year. But if he couldn't get into a boarding school then he would have to start renting an apartment. And if he started living in an apartment it would become absurdly hard to convince his cousin that he couldn't move in.

Seth had always had a hard time saying 'no' to the brat, especially when it came to his care. He had been using boarding school as an excuse as to why Derek had to keep living with his legal guardians, but if Seth suddenly moved into an apartment he had no doubt the complaints and whinings would pop right back up.

On the other hand, if he ended up staying here and those guys really were looking for him …

Seth frowned as his musings hit a roadblock. He didn't know what would happen to him, but guys that had no problem fighting cops while shouting at each other were people that he definitely didn't want to get involved in.

"There you are!" a familiar voice called out before Seth heard something fall from behind him.

Seth quickly looked back, jumping up from where he had been sitting on the bench as soon as he recognized the kid from earlier.

"You don't have to get up!" The kid said, putting his hands up in surrender as he walked around the bench. "I actually fell from a rooftop earlier today, so if we could sit down and talk that'd be really great," he said, sitting down without an invitation and gently putting his left foot out in front of him. "I think I twisted my fucking ankle," he explained, jerking his head toward it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing back here?" Seth snapped, quickly looking around for people who might recognize them despite the fact that no one was out during the late hour. "You're going to get the cops out here all over again."

"Duh," Bam replied, rolling his eyes as he leaned back against the bench. "That's why they made me wait until dark to come get you."

" 'They'? Get me to go where?" Seth asked, quickly looking around before heading back towards the door to the dormitories. "Look, I don't know who you guys are or what you want, but I'm not interested, okay? I won't tell anyone you were here, but I don't wanna be involved either, alright?"

Seth was quickly halted by a strong hand on his shoulder. He flung his hand out as he turned around, hoping to hit the other boy in the face. The other boy dodged and Seth froze when he realized he was looking into the face of a second boy, one he hadn't seen before.

"You've already been chosen."

"Stealth, Jesus, don't freak him out," a third boy interrupted, one he did recognize from that afternoon.

"It's against school policy to be on grounds if you aren't attending school here," Seth said. "Leave now, and I won't alert security."

The first boy, Bam, cocked out a hip as he crossed his arms. "Does it seem like we give a damn about school policy to you?"

"Bam, fuck, not you, too," the third boy said before turning to Seth. "Look, we're not trying to intimidate you." He shot a dark look to the other two boys. "Despite what it may _seem_."

"Stealth's the one being creepy," Bam said, his arms still crossed as he sat back down on the bench. "I've been nice, god damn it."

"You're scaring him," the third boy snapped before looking back at Seth. "We're civil guys, I promise. Speed, right? I'm Slingshot," he said holding out his hand.

That had the opposite effect of calming Seth down. His eyes widened as he quickly looked around him. "How'd you know that? Fuck. Fuck! Who told you? I'm not- _Fuck_!"

And then he was gone, zipping through the parking lot in a dead sprint.

"Nice going, Slingshot," Bam snapped. "This'll never be a successful mission if you scare off the target."

"It won't be a successful mission if you keep falling off fucking rooftops, either," Slingshot replied before turning to Stealth. "Any idea where he'd go?"

Stealth just shrugged.

* * *

"You've got control issues, huh?" Hunter asked as he was dragged along on yet another run to the school. "I thought you were running a democracy, and I'm pretty sure the vote of whether or not you would go came out to be negative."

"You've gotta learn to shut the fuck up if you don't want to end up dead by the time I'm done with you," Spot replied as he leaped across an alley and landed on another rooftop.

"And even if the vote _had_ been in your favor, I don't remember _anyone_ voting for me to come along," Hunter continued, ignoring Spot's comments. "This is a bunch of useless shit anyway. Speed's never going to agree to join whatever fucked up group this is supposed to be."

"You've gotta be one of the most fucking annoying people I've ever fucking met," Spot said, grabbing Hunter's arm and pulling him along. "You're also slow as shit, so hurry the fuck up."

"This isn't what I signed up for!" Hunter burst out, trying and failing to pull his arm out of Spot's grip.

Spot yanked him back, tripping him with his foot and sending him to the ground. He quickly put a boot on his chest, effectively pinning him in place. "You didn't _sign up_ for anything," he growled out. "And you certainly aren't here to fucking _contribute_ anything. You're here because I knew you couldn't be trusted to be left alone."

"So, tell me, how long have you been having these sorts of trust issues?"

Spot growled before slamming his foot into Hunter's chest. "Get the fuck up and let's go," he demanded, taking a few steps back and watching Hunter wheeze as he stayed on the ground.

It took a full minute for Hunter to get his breath back. "You're a sadistic motherfucker," he said, still breathing heavy.

"I'm a sadistic motherfucker who is on a time schedule, so get off your fucking ass and let's go before I knock more than just the breath out of you," Spot demanded as he glared.

"I don't understand why you're so insistent on this working out," Hunter said, still lying on his back. "I've worked with Speed before; he makes way too much fucking money to be dicking around with your ass."

Spot kicked him in the side of his ribs. "Get the fuck up and stop thinking about my ass."

"Don't be disgusting," Hunter said as he rolled on his side and finally forced himself up. "I wasn't thinking about it in the gay way. Jesus. Pipsqueak's aren't my type. And neither are dicks, both in the literal and figurative sense."

"Just get fucking moving. You're going to make us fucking late."

"Late for _what_ , exactly? I was under the impression you weren't going to be involved in this after you royally fucked it up the first time," Hunter replied, following behind Spot despite his words.

"I'm going to fix it after they fuck it up," Spot explained, starting to look around as they approached the school.

"You have some _major_ trust issues," Hunter muttered loud enough for Spot to hear.

"Yeah, so you've said," Spot replied, rolling his eyes. "It's not an issue if I'm always right." He frowned when he finally saw a group of people on the ground. He didn't bother warning Hunter before grabbing his arm and forcing him off the roof onto a nearby dumpster. Hunter landed straight on his back. "Nice landing," Spot snorted before quickly following after him.

Hunter slowly picked himself up, wincing at the effort. "How the hell am I supposed to have any type of graceful landing if you're shoving me off the god damn roof?"

"Hey! Asshole!" Bam's voice interrupted in a harsh whisper. "Shut the fuck up, will ya? We're trying to be inconspicuous here, ya dumb fuck."

"What the fuck are you guys doing?"Spot asked as he surveyed the scene. Slingshot was sitting on Speed's chest, holding his hands on each side of his head while Slingshot's nose dripped blood down onto Speed's chest. Bam stood a few feet away, holding a baseball bat and bleeding from a cut right above his eyebrow. Stealth was nowhere to be found. He looked between the two boys before frowning. "I don't remember rape being part of the plan."

Speed immediately started trying to get out of Slingshot's hold. "Woah! Wait! What! Secur-!" he yelled out before the other boy put a hand up to his mouth.

"Stop fucking squirming or I'll be doing something a lot worse than just raping you," Slingshot snapped at him in a harsh whisper.

"What the fuck's worse than rape?" Hunter asked as he walked over to the two of them and looked down at Speed. "Speed? Alex. We've done some work together before, though, seeing as though your job's already done before I get to it, you may not remember me. I'd shake your hand, but you seem … um ... " he looked up and down Speed's body and up to Slingshot who was still sitting on him. "... otherwise occupied, shall we say?"

"Shut the fuck up already," Spot demanded, pushing him away and looking down at Slingshot. "I'm more interested in _why_ he's …" He shot a look over to Hunter before growling out, "... _otherwise occupied_."

"Things may have gotten a bit out of hand," Bam broke in.

"Fucking obviously," Spot replied, looking down at Speed. "I'm asking how it fucking _happened_."

"The subject may have gotten a bit spooked and yelled out for security," Slingshot admitted quietly from his position on top of Speed.

"Stealth led them off," Bam finished quickly.

Spot rolled his eyes. "Why the fuck are you on top of him, Sling?"

"The subject may have become uncooperative," Slingshot muttered just loud enough for Spot to hear.

"He wasn't cooperating, so you decided that holding him down and threatening to rape him would make him come to our side?" Spot asked slowly.

"It worked on Bam!" Slingshot replied quickly.

"Yeah, it worked on-" Bam started before snapping his head in Slingshot's direction. "What the fuck? That's not what happened at all, you fucking assfuck!"

"Where did the raping thing even come from?" Speed asked when he finally squirmed enough to move Slingshot's hand from his mouth. "I thought you guys wanted me to steal a car."

"It's not just one car, my friend," Hunter said, rubbing his hands together. "It's several. A day. For the rest of your life, for we are your captors now, and you will never be able to-"

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" Spot demanded, kicking Hunter in the back. "Shut the fuck up, you idiot," he said before looking towards Speed and Slingshot. "I need a driver. Full time position. You can do whatever the hell you want when I don't need you."

"I decline," Speed replied quickly.

"Ha! Fucking told you he wouldn't do it," Hunter burst out. "You guys are fucking amateurs compared to us."

"I don't even know who the fuck you are," Speed said, tilting his head up a bit from the ground to get a better look at him. "But now that I know you've sold me down the fucking river I'm certainly going to fucking remember."

"Slingshot, get off him," Spot said, turning his back on him as he started walking down the street. "I'm going the fuck home. Two failures in one night is enough for me."

"Also knew I'd have to publish more fake fucking documents," Hunter grumbled as he followed behind.

"So … we're really giving up?" Bam asked, his voice quiet.

* * *

"Of course we aren't giving up," Spot said as soon as they had gotten home. He started pacing the living room. "But we certainly weren't going to convince him of shit when he was afraid of being fucking raped, _Slingshot_ ," he snapped, turning to face his second in command.

"For the thousandth time, I wasn't going to fucking rape him! I just needed to stop him from running away," Slingshot replied, glaring right back at his boss.

"Certainly _looked_ like you were trying to rape him," Hunter grunted from his normal place at the kitchen table.

"Raping wasn't even on the table until Spot mentioned it!" Slingshot yelled back, raising himself up from the couch he had been sitting on.

Spot pinched the bridge of his nose as he loudly breathed out. "We're not doing this stupid shit all over again." He shot a look at Stealth. "If we had avoided this shit the last time we were discussing it we wouldn't have failed the last time."

"The same could be said about the first time we had this discussion," Slingshot pointed out, hastily adding a, "sir," as soon as he caught Spot's glare.

" _The point is_ ," Spot ground out, looking from Hunter to Slingshot to Bam, "no more fucking arguing. If you have something fucking important to say then say it, if you don't, then shut the god damn hell up."

"I think-"

Spot quickly reached down, picking up a discarded shoe from the ground and hurling it at Hunter's head. "That means you don't fucking talk at all, got it, peasant?"

Hunter looked around him as he rubbed his head. "So, do I talk to answer that question, oorr …"

"Jesus! Shut the fuck up already!" Bam demanded from across the room. "Can we vote for cutting his god damn tongue out?"

"Just ignore him, for god's sake, Bam," Slingshot reprimanded from where he was reseated on the couch. "Yelling at that imbecile isn't going to do any good."

"I don't think anyone in this fucking place has the right to call me an imbecile, seeing as none of you have graduated high school," Hunter replied, crossing his arms and lifting his chin in the air.

"You haven't graduated high school either, you fucking asshole!"

"Bam! I told you, stop fucking encouraging him!"

"I'm going for a walk before I kill everyone in here," Spot said to Stealth over the yelling. "Fix this fucking shit," he demanded before strolling out, grumbling, " Fuck this stupid fucking democracy shit," before slamming the door behind him.

Slingshot immediately rounded onto Stealth. "Does that mean he left you in charge? I'm second in command! This completely disrespects my authority!"

"What authority?" Bam asked.

Hunter wasted no time in joining the fray. "How the fuck can some retard that can't talk be in charge?"

Stealth just stared.

* * *

Spot rolled off his back on the roof he had been lying back on as soon as he heard the gymnasium door open and close. He quickly and quietly jumped onto the grass below as soon as he saw it was Speed.

"So what do you want?" he asked abruptly, causing Speed to jump into the air and whirl around to face him.

"What the hell, man?" Speed asked, clutching at his chest. He looked around wildly and took several steps back as soon as he recognized the other boy. "What are you doing back here? I thought you said you gave up!"

"Yeah, for the night," Spot replied. "You're a hot commodity, you see," he explained, walking towards him. "I need you."

Speed's eyes widened as he took a step back for Spot's every step forward, keeping the distance between them. "Look, I really don't want to have sex with you, okay? And … and statutory rape is a felony … sometimes. I'm sure a violent statutory rape would be. And ours would be because … you know … I'd struggle."

Spot had stopped walking towards him, instead deciding to stand with his arms crossed as Speed got farther away. "I don't know why you're so fucking worried about everyone fucking raping you; you aren't even fucking good looking."

"What the fuck?" Speed asked, glaring at Spot as he abruptly stopped walking. "I'll have you know that I'm gorgeous. I get compliments all the time!"

"You're tall and bony."

"I'm a runner. You're short and scrawny," Speed declared, pointing at Spot. "I could crush you with my foot."

Spot frowned, looking down at the other boy's feet. "You probably fucking could because you have fucking Big Foot feet."

Speed looked down at his feet, too, matching Spot's frown. "Do not," he muttered before looking at the other boy's feet. "My feet are normal; you're just comparing them to your baby feet."

Spot rolled his eyes before taking a few quick steps toward him, leaving them a few feet apart. "Yeah, whatever. I don't give a fuck. My baby feet could still kick your bony ass," he said quickly. "I'm not here to have asinine arguments with you. I'm here to negotiate."

"Negotiate?" Speed asked, raising his eyebrows. "Negotiate for what? I don't even know what you psychos want."

"Your fucking _services_ ," Spot snapped. "I already told you that."

"See, and now we're back to the sex thing," Speed replied with a smirk.

Spot pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear I will snap your fucking ribs in half," he muttered too low to be heard. "I can give you three meals a day, a roof over your head, and protection. In exchange you drive me where I need you to and when I need you to. Do whatever the hell you want in your off time. So, get your shit and let's go," he told him, jerking his head at the school gates.

Speed blinked before squinting at him. "I get all that here, and I don't have to drive any snot-nosed kids around. How are you offering me a good deal?"

"Because you don't have to pay for any of the shit, and my protection has no borders."

Speed let out a breathless laugh. "Are you for real? That's pompous as fuck. Not that I'd expect much more from a nine year old.

"I'm fucking thirteen, douchebag," Spot snapped, crossing his arms. "And if you insult me one more fucking time I'm going to ram one of your big fatass feet into one of your big, fatass nostrils," he threatened through clenched teeth.

Speed's eyes widened as he took several steps back again. "Like I told your friends, man, you guys aren't even allowed to be here, and it's fucking daylight right now. Any minute a guard's going to be coming around that corner."

Spot forced himself to breath out in an effort to calm himself. Threats were so much fucking easier than negotiations. "So what do you want then? What do you want that you can't get here?"

"I want you to leave me the fuck alone," Speed declared, looking behind him when he heard the gymnasium door open. When he turned back around Spot was gone.

* * *

"The Hulk could take down Batman _and_ Superman," Bam declared loudly. "The guy's

impenetrable! And super strong!"

"Superman's impenetrable and super strong," Slingshot pointed out.

"Batman's fucking rich!" Hunter argued. "He can buy whatever the fuck he wants! Definitely the tools to be able to take The Hulk and Superman down! Probably at the same fucking time!"

Spot walked through the front door in the middle of their argument, looking right at Stealth and raising an eyebrow at him. "I take it they didn't listen to you?"

Stealth just shrugged.

"Alright, you idiots, listen up," Spot declared in a loud voice, effectively cutting off the super hero argument. "Fuck that democracy shit; I've got a plan. And you're all going to follow it perfectly to the god damn letter or I am going to hang you off our god damn roof by your fucking shoe strings, got me?"

Spot began to pace as he received nods from the other boys. "We're going to bombard him. Everyone has a fucking price, and we're going to find out his," he said.

"This is a super villain talk, isn't it?" Hunter muttered from the table as he rested his chin in his hand.

Bam and Slingshot both shot him glares, but didn't dare speak over Spot.

"Don't offer him anything. We just need intel right now. I want a man on him twenty-four/seven, and I want you talking to him every single fucking second he's alone. Any inkling that he gave you something we can use to manipulate or threaten him with I wanna hear about it immediately."

Stealth looked around the room, smirking at his king as soon as they made eye contact.

"Bam, you're up," Spot said, jerking his head towards the door. "I needed you out that door twenty minutes before I stepped into it. Report any movements or suspicious activity. And don't fall off any more rooftops, dummy."

Bam glared at Slingshot before flicking his gaze over to his boss. Spot smirked at him before jerking his head at the door again. Bam nodded before stepping outside and heading back to the school.

"Stealth, you've got second watch," Spot said. "You're to relieve him in four hours." He turned to look at Slingshot. "You're third shift; you're on in eight. And I'll take fourth watch."

"That's only sixteen hours, you dipshit," Hunter replied

Spot quickly strode across the room, knocking the kitchen table onto Hunter and shattering what little dishes they had left. "That's why they'll be _revolving_ shifts," he explained before he turned and headed towards the hallway. "I'm taking a nap. Someone tie up Hunter someplace unpleasant and wake me when it's my shift."

* * *

Speed was having what was becoming the most tiring week in his entire life. As soon as one crazy goon left him another would pop up in his place. Spot threatened him, Bam rattled on as if they were friends, Slingshot kept offering him fast pay raises, and the other kid just stared at him like he was going to kill him or something.

And no one on this damn campus was stopping them! As soon as a security guard or student would pop up they would disappear like fucking ghosts. Speed had tried to complain and alert someone, but all he got were confused looks and offerings to book him with the school therapist. So clearly no one believed him.

Not that _he_ would believe him, either, if he wasn't experiencing these guys himself. They were too unreal for words.

He stepped outside and lit a cigarette, wondering if he was still dealing with Slingshot or if it was Spot's turn in the rotation.

"We wearing you down yet?" Spot said from behind him.

So, it was Spot then. He was okay with that. Spot threatened him alot, but to date he hadn't done anything yet, and Speed was starting to get used to feeling like his life was in danger.

"You guys are a sadistic lot, aren't you?" Speed asked, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Though, I'll say, it's kind of nice to have some friends to shoot the shit with as I smoke."

Spot frowned at him. "You're fucking ridiculous; we aren't friends."

Speed just shrugged. "Well, whatever the fuck it is you wanna call us then. I don't care. Along with being ridiculous, I'm also fucking stubborn, so you can expect this to go on for a long time."

Spot shrugged back. "That's fine, I've got nothing else going on. You, on the other hand, have a car to pick up tonight, and I'd be a bit worried about that. You see," Spot said, sitting on the bench and putting his arm over Speed's shoulders, "as quiet as my men can be when they're someplace comfortable, you'll find they're much louder when they're in a place they _aren't_ familiar with, such as a vacate lot down in the Bronx."

That made Speed stare. That had been a new threat, and one that scared him in whole new ways. One, he kept all his intel confidential. The only people who knew where the car was getting picked up were him and his client, which meant that-

"It's a real client," Spot answered calmly, as if reading his thoughts. "A big one, too." He plucked the cigarette from Speed's fingers and took a puff, not bothering to give it back. "So, you either take the client and hope my guys don't get a little too loud, or you don't take the client and get brushed outta the business for being a flake. So, lose-lose for you; win-win for me. I do like how that works out."

Speed frowned, not at all liking the situation. He had already been paid upfront for his gig tonight, and had already spent the money, so there was no backing out while giving a full refund. And if he performed the job, but got caught by the police then there would be no more money coming in.

Speed would be a sitting duck in prison, which is probably where he'd be sent, since he was only a few months away from becoming an adult. He'd have no money in his compensary to buy protection or favors.

And what would happen to his little cousin if no one was paying his guardians to take care of him? He'd probably go back into the system, and it'd take months for Speed to find him again once he managed to get out of prison for grand theft auto.

Speed snapped out of his thoughts to Spot leaning close to him, studying his face, his eyes narrowed. "What were you thinking about just then?"

"Huh? When? Nothing," Speed answered, his answer too quick to be believable.

"Hm," Spot answered, leaning back against the bench they were both sitting on. "Worried about going to prison? Or worried about something that'll happen out here while you're in prison?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Speed asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Spot matched his stance. "Someone who doesn't take 'no' for an answer."

Speed looked up to the sky, sighing as he did so. "I've got a cousin I'm providing for," he answered quietly. "Those things you offered me before? Food, shelter, protection? If-if you give them to him instead, I'll ... " He cleared his throat. "If you can make that happen then I'm in."

Sean smirked as he leaned forward and stuck out his hand. "We have an accord then. I'll be sure to teach my boys to be quiet before you have to leave for work tonight."

Speed stared for a few minutes before sighing deeply. He closed his eyes as he shook Spot's hand, terrified that he was making a big mistake.

TBC

Yet another chapter showing why Bam is not combat ready. Haha.


	7. Gadget or How Spot Might Care

Bam: Age 12  
Sean: Age 13  
Slingshot: Age 14  
Stealth: Age 15  
Speed: Age 17  
Hunter: Age 17

"Mission accomplished," Spot announced with a smirk as he led Speed into their living room. He turned towards Hunter. "You can leave now. You earned your arm back well enough, I guess."

"Are you kidding me?" Hunter asked, flinging his arms up. "First, I did way more than I ever agreed to, and I pulled it off flawlessly, might I add. Second, do you even realize how many people I pissed off to make this happen? Word on the street is I snitched on Speed, and got him fucking kidnapped."

"Oh, yeah," Speed interrupted when Spot looked at him. "I guess that was kind of my fault. Had to get some insurances in place just in case I went missing."

"No way am I going back out there," Hunter continued. "I'll be dead in a week." He crossed his arms. "Nope, I'm staying right the fuck here."

"Welcome aboard," Slingshot said with a smile, walking over and extending his hand for Hunter to shake.

"Perfect, I needed more worthless idiots under me," Spot scoffed but made no move to discourage the handshake.

"I want proof that Derek's taken care of," Speed interrupted again, still looking at Spot.

Spot raised an eyebrow. "Who the fuck are you talking about?"

"My little cousin!" Speed snapped. "I can get my own food and place to stay, and I can certainly protect myself. So, give those things to Derek, and I'll drive you around or steal cars for you or whatever."

"That's not really how this whole thing works," Spot said, starting to pace around the living room. "You work for me; I can't just send you out onto the street and hope no one comes to jump you."

"People don't really like Spot very much," Hunter explained. "Though, for the life of me, I have yet to figure out _why_." He sent a glare in Spot's direction, leaving no one questioning the sarcastic nature of his statement.

"You aren't funny," Bam grumbled from his place on the couch. A glare from Spot made sure he didn't take the argument farther.

"We stick together. I'll give your cousin the necessities of life, but you don't get to go anywhere without someone with you," Spot demanded "You look scrawny as shit; probably only take one punch to bring you down."

Speed narrowed his eyes at him, taking in Spot's bony body. "That's a little bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

Spot cocked his head to the side. "How so?"

"The funny part is he's not joking," Hunter interrupted yet again.

"Jesus, fuck, how much longer am I going to have to put up with you?" Spot asked, whirling around so that he faced Hunter.

"Well, he did just sign on, Boss," Slingshot replied. "And, with all due respect, we do kind of need all the help we can get."

Spot crossed his arms before turning away. "I only hope someone kills you soon," he muttered before focusing his attention back on Speed. "You wanna make sure your darling cousin's safe and healthy? Grab me a car, and we'll go see the pipsqueak."

Speed made a move towards the door before freezing and looking back at Spot. "Just like that? Right away?"

Spot raised an eyebrow at him. "Would you prefer we wait until he's half starved so he'll _really_ appreciate what you're doing for him?" He turned his back on Speed to catch Stealth's eye. "Stealth'll tail you. Make sure you don't run into trouble while you're getting me … whatever." He shrugged. "Something low key and easy on gas."

Speed nodded as his stomach dropped at the prospect of being alone with Stealth yet again. If anyone was going to kill him it'd be that creepy fucking dude.

* * *

 

"You're planning on bringing some snot-nosed kid here?" Bam asked as he walked into Spot's bedroom and leaned against the wall. He smirked at him. "That's your plan, isn't it? You're going to bring the kid here?"

Spot frowned at him before running a hand through his hair. "How the fuck did I get so obvious?" he muttered to himself.

"You aren't," Bam assured him. "I've been watching you. You're not exactly one for hand outs, so you've gotta be planning on making this kid do something for you. And if he's going to be working for you then you'll want him here. What I can't figure out is what you plan on getting from some little kid."

"I'm trying to replace you," Spot answered with a smirk, getting up from where he had been sitting on his bed to approach Bam.

Bam blew him a kiss before matching his smirk. "Oh, honey, you could never replace me, and you know it."

Spot walked closer, his smirk growing. "If you never want to be replaced you should start doing something that makes you irreplaceable."

Bam put a hand on Spot's hip, pulling him a bit closer. "Is that an invitation, darling?"

"Depends. Am I going to have to pay for it?"

Bam immediately dropped his hand as he frowned and pressed back into the wall. "You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Spot cocked an eyebrow, his smirk not dropping. "You're the one who decided to be a whore. You saying you don't take pride in making some money while you get your ass rammed?"

Bam swung out his first, which Spot easily dodged as he stepped back from his subordinate. "Go fuck yourself, Spot," he said before stalking off, pushing past Slingshot who had been walking down the hall.

"Might be a bit unprofessional to be flirting with your inferiors, don't you think?" Slingshot asked, popping his head into Spot's room. "Especially with the way you decide to do it, Mr. Sauve."

"Jealous I'm not flirting with you?" Spot asked, holding onto his smirk.

Slingshot rolled his eyes even as he felt himself blush. "Not if your idea of flirting is calling me a whore and offering to ram my ass," he replied with a frown.

Spot approached him, much the same way he had just done with Bam. "And what if I have a different idea of flirting when it comes to you?"

Slingshot took a step back so that he was once again in the hallway. "I'd say I have no desire to be your second choice."

Spot raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. "But you're okay with it if you're my first choice? I had no idea you were a queer, Sling."

"Oh, fuck off, Spot," Slingshot said before walking away to reveal Stealth who had been staring at them from the hallway.

"Don't even think about it," Stealth muttered as he walked into Spot's room.

Spot laughed. "In your dreams," he answered, going back to sit on his bed.

Stealth stared at him until Spot rolled his eyes before flopping on his back.

"Save the lectures, will ya? I was just messing around," Spot replied to the silence, staring up at his ceiling.

"Might be good to find someone to relieve tensions with," Stealth eventually said, heading over to the bed.

Spot popped back up, resting on his elbows. He studied Stealth before finally saying, "The joke's not nearly as funny coming from you."

"Not joking," Stealth said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Spot cocked an eyebrow but didn't answer.

"Not me!" Stealth said, his eyes wide when he finally realized the implication.

Spot laughed. "I don't have time for that shit, Stealth; I've got a city to run."

Stealth frowned, staring at Spot for several seconds before saying anything. "You aren't running anything yet, and you won't if you let your dick do your thinking. Best to find someone to distract it so it doesn't distract _you_ instead."

Spot rolled his eyes. "Is that how it is?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Sounds like a god damn hassle to me."

Stealth shrugged. "Not if you find someone easy."

"Hm," was all he got in reply before Spot changed the subject. "How'd the car thieving go?"

"Fair," Stealth replied. "It'll be ready by this time tomorrow."

Spot smiled up at the ceiling. "My own car. Bet it's going to be sweet as shit."

* * *

 

Spot's face dropped as soon as he saw Speed get out of his new car. "You stole a fucking _Prius_?"

Speed glanced at the car before turning back around and shrugging at his new boss. "You said you wanted something that would blend in and be gas efficient."

Spot narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm a gang leader; I can't drive around in this piece of crap!" he complained, shoving his hand towards the vehicle in question.

"I thought the point was remaining inconspicuous!" Speed immediately argued, raising an eyebrow at his boss. "Now you're angry because it's _too_ inconspicuous?"

"He's angry because the guy's a moron," Hunter said as he came up behind them, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Spot immediately squared up to him. "And you're a moron for thinking you can talk to me like that and not get a broken nose."

" _Guys_ ," Speed said, stepping up beside them. "Seriously, this is what we're doing? You forget about my cousin?" He flashed a look to the car. "And Priuses aren't _that_ bad. Definitely inconspicuous.".

Spot turned to glare at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes. "Oh, yes," he replied sarcastically before walking around to the passenger side of the car. "A Prius isn't bad at _all_." He shot one more glare in Speed's direction before letting himself into his new car.

Speed turned to Hunter as soon as the door slammed shut. "Is this seriously happening? I dropped out of school to babysit a pompous _child_?"

"Did you not realize that before?" Hunter replied, smirking at him. "He's barely hit puberty and you're falling all over yourself trying to get him a fucking car. It's pretty entertaining."

Speed frowned. "I'm not falling all over myself," he argued quietly.

Spot had already started the car, not hesitating to roll down the driver's side window and yelling at Speed. "Hurry the fuck up before I change my mind."

"Yessir," Speed answered, eyes wide as he flashed a look at him. He turned back around and frowned at Hunter. "I don't want to hear a god damn word out of you," he whispered.

Hunter just rose an eyebrow as he tried to keep the smirk off his face. "I wasn't trying to talk you out of it. I think it's adorable: some almost grown man taking orders from a little boy." Hunter finally let his smirk spread across his face. "It makes for perfect comic relief."

Speed frowned deeper as he climbed into the car. "There's a reason people don't like you, Hunt," he told him before slamming the door and rolling up his window.

"There's a reason people don't like you," Hunter answered with a scowl as the car drove out of the parking lot. "And it's because you steal fucking Priuses for little boys," he explained to the empty lot.

* * *

 

Derek looked at himself in the mirror, frowning as he lifted up his shirt. He got that the rest of the guys called him tubby as a joke, but it was starting to kind of, maybe, get to him. Not that he would tell them that, of course. Then they'd start making fun of him for entirely different reasons.

He just didn't think he was. Tubby, that is. He might've been a little heavier than some of the other kids, but there were definitely some fatter than he was. He was just the only one that didn't play some kind of sport. He had tried, because sports were the only way anybody liked you at school, but he had trouble remembering the rules. And watching the players while watching the ball while watching his feet. It was all too much to focus on, and he had never been particularly competitive anyway.

He much preferred to just stay in his room and watch television. Sometimes he drew comic books. In them, he was the hero and he went around saving everybody and everybody loved him. He stayed on top of his homework, because if he didn't his cousin Seth would freak out.

And Seth was basically his guardian, despite the fact that they didn't live together. Derek was well aware that Seth paid his foster parents every month for Derek's room and board, along with his food and clothing bills. If Seth didn't then Derek would have had to, and Seth had insisted to this day that Derek had to just focus on studying and being a kid.

But soon, Seth would be eighteen and graduated, and Derek could move in with him, and they could have adventures and be a family and have a good time all the time. And Derek wouldn't have to feel guilty about living with people he knew didn't want him. And he wouldn't have to keep going to a crappy school full of crappy boys who called him crappy names.

Derek was looking forward to that, and if he could convince Seth to leave that stupid all-boys Catholic school, then they'd be able to get an apartment together in just over three months. Derek smiled. Seth had always been stubborn about not being able to leave school. That he couldn't go to public school for this or that reason. But Derek could convince him. He knew he could.

Unknowingly, outside Derek's window were Speed and Spot, both sporting binoculars as they stared at Speed's cousin through the window.

"I'm not taking care of some mentally retarded little fatso," Spot declared as he brought his binoculars down.

Speed dropped his own binoculars, letting the cord around his neck catch them as he glared at his new boss. "He's not _fat_. He's healthy. Big body types run in our family."

Spot rose an eyebrow as he let his eyes trail up and down Speed's skinny body. " _Obviously_."

Speed glared harder before letting the fat comment go. "And he's definitely not mentally retarded. I don't even know why the hell you would think that; you haven't even talked to him."

"Yeah, but I am watching him as he repeatedly frowns and then smiles at his mirror while he flips up and down his shirt," Spot replied before looking through his binoculars again. "Sounds like retarded fucking behavior to me," he muttered, making sure he had been loud enough for Speed to hear.

Speed kept on glaring as Spot ignored him before he finally turned back his attention to his little cousin's bedroom. "Have I mentioned how fucking creepy this is?" he muttered. "It's an invasion of privacy to be spying on him like this. Not to mention unnecessary. Just drop some money off with his foster family and we can go."

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Spot asked, still not bothering to look away from the bedroom.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'why'?" Speed snapped, dropping his binoculars to slam into his chest for a second time as he focused all his attention on Spot. "Because you promised to take care of him if I came to work for you."

"Yeah, so why the fuck would I leave him here?" Spot replied back, still not looking at Speed. "I'm starting to think it's the mentally retarded that runs in your family," he muttered.

"It's 'mental retardation' dumbass," Speed said, glaring harder. "Which neither of us are."

Spot gave a silent snort. "Yeah, neither of you are _mental retardation_. _That's_ fucking believable."

"You-" Speed started before growling. "You are so fucking stupid. Yes, 'mentally retarded' would work in _that_ sentence, but it wasn't working in the first one."

"I was under the impression people who are mentally retarded didn't work at all," Spot replied flippantly.

Speed gnashed his teeth before sighing, forcing himself to release some tension. "You are … I don't even fucking know," he said, smacking his forehead. "Fucking annoying for one. The most offensive person I've ever met for another. Not to mention you're a _child_."

"Says the guy that sucks his thumb at night," Spot scoffed.

"How did you- No, I don't," Speed replied quickly, not dropping his glare from the wannabe gang leader.

Spot rolled his eyes, despite the fact that he was still looking out of his binoculars. "Please. You think your mentally retarded cousin is the first person I ever monitored before approaching?"

"' _Spied on_ before approaching', you mean," Speed snapped back, finally turning away from Spot to watch Derek through his binoculars again. "And what the hell do you even find out about someone while they're _sleeping_?"

"Found out you suck your thumb."

"And how was that helpful?" Speed asked, dropping his binoculars once again to glare at Spot. "You didn't accomplish anything except getting labeled a creepy stalker. And I really wish you wouldn't do this to my _nine-year-old cousin_."

"And _I_ really wish you didn't suck your thumb. Doesn't mean it's going to happen."

Speed couldn't think of a reply apart from gnashing his teeth again.

* * *

 

"It's my cousin," Speed told Slingshot three days later as he followed him into his bedroom. He shot a quick look at Hunter, Slingshot's bunkmate, before getting back on topic. "I should be allowed to know what the hell it is Spot's planning on doing to him … or with him … or for him." He flung up his hands in frustration. "I don't even know what the correct _preposition_ to use for this occasion is!"

Slingshot squinted at him. "Prep-what?" he asked, shooting a glare over to Hunter as he heard him laughing. He rolled his eyes. "Nevermind, it doesn't fucking matter," he decided before plopping down on his bed. "I appreciate you thinking Spot trusts me enough to tell me all his plans, but it's really no where near the truth." He flung his arm across his eyes as Hunter laughed again. "Go find Stealth. If anyone knows what the hell Spot's doing it's going to be him."

Speed frowned as he took a step back. "Can't you go talk to him?" he asked, eliciting another laugh out of Hunter. "He really freaks me out," he explained over Hunter's laughing.

"Shut up, Hunter," Slingshot grumbled before lifting his arm from his eyes so he could turn and look at Speed. "Stealth freaks everyone out," he explained. "And, sorry to say, but I'm not your daddy, and-"

He was interrupted by Hunter's loud laughing from across the room. "'Sorry to say'? You wanna be someone's daddy?" he asked, his face growing red from laughter. "I didn't know you were into dominance play, there, Sling. I'm sure I can find you someone if Speed refuses to get into it."

Slingshot frowned at him before rolling his eyes and focusing his attention back on Speed. "That's not what I meant, obviously," he explained. "I just meant I'm not here to hold your hand. Spot likes you; he wouldn't have recruited you if he didn't."

"Spot recruited me because he found out I can steal and race cars," Speed said before Slingshot could continue. "Not because we're friends."

"Yeah, well, if he didn't like you then he would've found someone else, is what I'm saying," Slingshot tried to explain. "You think you're the only person in the city that knows how to drive fast?"

Speed shrugged, looking out the window onto the busy street below. "Not like New York City gives a whole lot of people the time and place to practice," he replied. He looked over at Hunter, who was still lying on his bed snickering to himself. "Plus, he let Hunter join, and clearly he hates _his_ guts."

"Hey, now, that's a little uncalled for," Hunter replied with a frown. He rolled over onto his stomach in order to better face his roommate and their guest. "He doesn't _hate_ me; we just have a really complicated relationship."

Speed rolled his eyes as soon as he caught Slingshot's eye. "Yeah," he replied, "A complicated relationship in which you annoy him and he threatens you bodily harm. Seems like some real complicated subtext there."

"You aren't funny," Hunter pouted, rolling onto his back and crossing his arms.

Speed rolled his eyes again, this time completely for his own benefit, before turning back to Slingshot. "' _Should_ I be concerned' is more of what I'm asking, I guess. This is the first time Spot's gone off alone to spy on him. It makes me think something bad's going to happen."

Slingshot rolled his eyes this time. "Spot wants alone time sometimes. He probably just got tired of you tagging along. Or he felt like a walk or something."

"He's not walking anywhere, because he took the fucking car with him," Speed pointed out, not able to keep the anger out of his voice.

That made Slingshot sit up in his bed, cocking his head at Speed. "He took the car?"

"I know!" Speed asked, flinging his arms out. "Fuck me, right? What am I even doing here if I don't need to drive the little punk around?"

"Since when does Spot know how to drive?" Slingshot asked back. "Spot doesn't know how to drive." he decided a second later. He bit his lip as he ignored Speed's pacing in front of him. "Man, he's going to totally kill that car, and we haven't even had it for a week."

"Maybe Derek's been the goal all along. Maybe forcing me to join whatever-the-hell-thing-this-is is Spot's way of getting close to my cousin. Which brings up a lot of disturbing thoughts." Speed abruptly stopped his pacing to point at Slingshot. "Don't think I haven't noticed the way he looks at Bam. Shit's disgusting."

Hunter snorted from across the room. "You're going to have a hard time here if you've got a problem with homosexual relationships, 'cause our boss is as faggy as they come."

"Spot's not gay; he just likes freaking people out," Slingshot replied.

Hunter hopped up, sitting on his bed to ensure that Slingshot saw his eye roll. "Yeah, when he checks out your ass every time you leave a room it's totally to freak you out."

Slingshot sat up as well, raising his eyebrows at the other boy as he leaned forward. "You think he checks out my ass?"

"Wait."

"I _know_ he checks out your ass," Hunter corrected, smirking at him.

"Guys."

Slingshot tried to hold his smile back, but he was clearly failing. "No way. Really?"

" _Guys_ ," Speed said once again. "Can you have your crush symposium later? I don't care that Spot's gay; I care that he's going after little kids. It's pedophilia." That made him frown and he resumed his pacing once again. "And now he's alone with my cute little cousin, and I'm not there to protect him."

Hunter squinted his eyes at Speed as he kept pacing the room, muttering to himself. "Are you talking about the way he looks at _Bam_?" he finally guessed.

"Bam and Spot are basically the same age, dude," Slingshot said as soon he realized what they were talking about.

Speed stopped his pacing as he looked between the two of them. "Really?" he finally asked. "So you think Derek will be okay?"

Slingshot stood up from his bed to walk over and put a hand on Speed's shoulder. "I get that Spot's pretty reckless sometimes, but he's also really protective. Derek'll be fine."

"Yeah," Hunter piped up from his bed. "What do you think he's going to do? Punch him in the back of the head and kidnap him?"

* * *

 

Spot frowned as he heard a noise from his trunk. Seemed like Speed's cousin was already awake; he really should have punched him in the back of the head harder. Not that it was really an issue. He had brought some duct tape for an emergency, and there was no way the little retard was going to squirm his way out of his bonds.

Kidnapping the kid hadn't been his original plan, of course, but when the little retard had started freaking out about Spot going through his stuff and Spot couldn't remember Speed's real name … Well, kidnapping just seemed like the easiest solution.

Spot frowned as he stretched out his neck to better see the road in front of him. Granted, that was before he had thought about how annoying Speed was probably going to be when Spot dragged in his little brother or cousin or whatever into their house wrapped in duct tape.

Stealth had always said he had a problem with not thinking ahead.

Spot swerved to his left as a car on his right honked at him before accelerating past him. He frowned down at his speedometer when he realized he was only going twenty-five miles an hour in a forty-five zone.

The driving thing might have been a bit harder to do than he had thought. He _probably_ should have brought someone along to drive him.

Not that he had much of an option but to drive back to headquarters now. There was no way he was going to leave a new member of his gang in the trunk of a Prius; he wasn't an animal. And walking down the street carrying a kid covered in duct tape probably wouldn't turn out fantastic for him; he could at least think ahead _that_ much.

Luckily for Spot, the ride back didn't hold too many catastrophes, especially if you ignored the three times he glided over and hit a curb. Before he knew it he was (crookedly) parked at headquarters and carrying a tiny person wrapped in duct tape over his shoulder.

Speed's voice, obviously, was the first one he heard as soon as he stepped into the living room. " _Is that my_ _ **cousin**_?"

Spot rolled his eyes at the obvious answer as he dumped the wriggling mess of a human onto the floor.

Speed immediately fell to his knees next to him as he started ripping the duct tape off. He was practically cooing apologizes as the kid winced at the pulled off the tape.

Stealth caught Spot's gaze before making an exaggerated, noiseless sigh and leaving the room. Spot rolled his eyes once again, this time at Stealth's retreating back. Spoil sport.

Bam, Slingshot, and Hunter just stared at him: Bam with wide eyes, Slingshot with crossed arms and a frown, and Hunter with a smile that was threatening to split his whole face in two.

Spot managed another eye roll before speaking. " _What_?"

To no one's surprise, it was Slingshot who stepped up to answer him. "What do you mean 'what'?" he snapped, flinging his arm in the direction of Speed and his kid. "You can't-"

Speed cut him off before he could continue. "You can't possibly think this is normal behavior!" He ripped the final piece of duct tape from Derek's mouth, matching his cousin's wince when he realized he probably put too much strength into the last one. He mouthed a "sorry" to Derek before getting up and striding towards Spot. "What were you even thinking? You don't think the cops are going to get called when his foster parents find out he's gone? You're going to bring the cops right to us, and then no one's going to be able to protect him!" He finished his rant with a panting chest and a glare at Spot.

"Do you live here?" Derek's quiet voice asked, looking at Speed with wide eyes. "Can I stay here?"

Hunter answered before Speed had a chance to. "Welcome home, kid," he greeted, his smile getting impossibly wider as Speed glared at him.

"This is _not_ your home," Speed said, feeling awful about snapping the second his cousin's face fell. Speed knew, however, thanks to all the years spent dealing with his cousin, that this wasn't the time nor the place to be apologizing. Derek would take it as Speed stepping down and automatically assume that he had won the argument. Then they'd have to have the same conversation all over again, except with more crying. "You belong back with your mom and dad," he explained, forcing his voice to become quiet and calm.

"They _aren't_ my mom and dad," Derek argued with a pout as he crossed his arms. "Don't call 'em that."

Speed sighed, deciding that this was an argument he could give in to no problem. "Fine. I'm sorry," he replied, his voice still smooth as he ignored the intense hatred he had been harboring towards Spot since the second he had walked in with his cousin. "Your foster parents then," he corrected before walking over and kneeling back down in front of his cousin. His beautiful, innocent, naive little cousin who was currently sitting in the middle of the living room that was quickly becoming known as New York City's most violent gang. He was absolutely going to kill Spot. "You're going to make them worry," Speed explained, trying to ignore the thoughts that were growing more and more anxious as the seconds went by. "We've gotta get you back home, so I can explain what happened."

"I don't wanna go back home," Derek answered before looking over to Hunter. "Can't I stay here?"

Hunter nodded his head, still smiling. "Sure thing, kid. For as long as you want, too."

Speed put his hands over his innocent little cousin's years as he clenched his teeth. "For the love of fucking god, Hunter," he growled, "if you do not leave the fucking room this instant I will rip out your tongue and make you choke on it."

"I can hear you, you know," Derek said angrily before Hunter could reply. "And I don't wanna go!" he exclaimed, ripping his head out of Speed's hands. "You said we could live together as soon as you turned eighteen and got your own place! And now you have your own place and you're almost eighteen and why can't I stay? I don't wanna go back," he said, tears welling up in his eyes.

It was all Speed could do to keep from melting and giving in. He absolutely hated seeing his precious younger cousin cry. "Except I'm not eighteen yet, and, legally, I can't keep you here. You have to go back. And once I'm eighteen we can … we can discuss it," he lied. There was absolutely no way he was letting his innocent cousin move in with gang members.

"Since when do you care about what's _legal_?" Spot asked,crossing his arms.

"Yeah!" Derek exclaimed, suddenly all smiles.

"You're a bad influence on him already!" Speed accused, immediately standing back up and striding towards Spot. "And this whole arrangement between us?" he snarled, pointing between himself and Spot. "It's fucking done, do you hear me? I'm out. And I don't give a fuck what kind of threats you want to make. I'm fucking out of here. Tonight."

"Try it and see what happens," Spot growled right back.

"Alright, that's enough," Slingshot finally spoke up as he stepped in between the two of them. He looked back over to Bam and Hunter. "Bam," he commanded. "Take Mr. Too-Happy into the kitchen and make dinner. A long one. And I don't want to see either of you until it's done and the table is set." He put his hand on Speed's shoulder. "Speed, let's go upstairs," he said, his voice suddenly calm. "Let's talk about this, okay?"

Spot looked towards Hunter and Bam when he felt their eyes on him. "Well," he replied with a shrug, "you heard him."

Bam immediately nodded before grabbing Hunter's shoulder and steering him towards the kitchen.

"But I wanted to see what happens," Hunter whined as he was dragged off.

"What about Derek?" Speed asked, looking towards his cousin.

"Derek will be fine for a few minutes while we talk," Slingshot replied. He started steering Speed towards the stairs, stopping to turn around when Spot started following them. "Boss, you stay here," he said. "I already know you're going to be counterproductive to the entire conversation." He leaned forward to whisper to him, "Let me handle this one, okay?"

Spot wouldn't have nodded him off had he realized that he was getting stuck in the room with a baby.

It was several seconds of staring before Derek finally broke the silence. "What are you boss of?"

"Brooklyn," Spot answered before sitting down cross legged on the floor, still half a room away from the other boy.

Derek's eyes immediately widened. "I didn't know Brooklyn had a boss."

"It will when I'm done with it," Spot promised with a nod. He took out a cigarette and lit it before extending the pack to Derek. "You want one?"

Derek's eyes got even wider as he shook his head. "I don't think I'm allowed."

Spot shrugged as he took a puff. "If you work for me," he replied, blowing out smoke, "you can be allowed to do whatever the hell you want."

"For real?" Derek asked in awe, leaning forward. "Can I?"

Spot shrugged again. "Depends on if you can be useful or not. What can you do?"

Derek leaned back so he was sitting up straight again and bit his lip. It took him several seconds before he finally answered. "I can draw," he offered.

Spot rolled his eyes. "What the fuck am I going to do with that?"

"I can …" Derek frowned as his mind raced through his possible skills. "I know how to do long division," he tried again. "No one else in my class can do it yet. My teacher says I'm real smart," he said, looking over at Spot with a hopeful expression.

"I doubt that, retard," Spot muttered, and if Derek heard him he gave no indication. "Long division is stupid," he replied in a louder voice.

Derek immediately frowned again. "I know how to play the piano?"

"Is that a fucking question?" Spot asked, glaring at him as he took a hit off his cigarette.

Derek quickly shook his head. "No. I can play the piano," he repeated.

"That's still just as fucking useless as long division, you idiot," Spot answered.

Derek let out a whine as he went back to thinking about what else he might have been good at. He was quickly running out of possibilities. "I can play video games?"

" _More_ questions?" Spot growled out.

Derek quickly shook his head again as his eyes widened in tower. "No. I can-"

"Forget about it," Spot snapped, rolling his eyes. "Video games are useless as fuck, and you're definitely a retard. Useless. How the fuck can you make me _money_ , dipshit?"

Derek's mouth dropped open as he stared at Spot, eyes still wide open. "S-seth says you shouldn't use that word," he finally said in a quiet voice.

Spot smacked himself on the forehead. "You've gotta be the dumbest fucking retard I've ever met," he muttered

Derek's lip quivered. "I don't think Seth likes that word either," he said, his voice cracking halfway through.

"Oh, fucking Jesus, like I give a flying fuck about Seth," Spot snapped. He flinched as Derek let out a wail and tears started streaming down his face. "Wha-what the fuck are you doing?" Spot exclaimed, his eyes wide as he leaned away from the little boy.

"I-I-I want Seth! You're mean and I don't like you!" Derek announced, snot already pouring out of his nose.

"Bam!" Spot shouted, his voice high and tight. "Bam! I need you! Please! Now!"

Bam came rushing in just seconds later, a frying pan lifted over his head in one hand and a steak knife in the other. His eyes flashed around the room on high alert before he settled a confused gaze on Spot.

Spot's eyes pointedly widened before his head jerked toward the crying boy on the other side of the room. "That's the problem," he said for clarification, trying to keep his voice calm and failing. "How would that _not_ be the fucking problem?"

Bam raised his eyebrows before pointing at himself. "Me? What am I supposed to do?"

In the meantime, Derek continued to wail.

"I don't know!" Spot exclaimed, flinging his arms out. "Do _something_."

Bam looked panicked for half a second before taking a deep breath and steeling himself for his new mission. He dropped his unneeded weapons and crouched down beside Speed's cousin. Bam spared one more look towards Spot before slowly reaching out a hand to grab his shoulder and shaking him enough to make his head bob. "Hey, it'll be alright," he said in an emotionless voice.

Derek did nothing but yell louder.

"Jesus, you made it worse!" Spot accused, finally leaping up from his place on the floor and walking over to Bam. "You were supposed to fix it!"

"Well, I didn't know what to do!" Bam exclaimed, his voice coming out frantic once again. "I've never had to take care of kids before! You never trained me for this!"

"Little kids should know how to get other little kids to stop crying!"

"Fucking Jesus, we're the same age, Spot!" Bam reminded him.

Spot's eyes widened as he pointed an accusing finger at him. "Don't say that," he warned. "Don't you fucking say that. That's what got us into this fucked up situation in the first place."

Bam just blinked at him. "Don't say … what?"

"'Fucking Jesus'," Spot whispered.

Bam's look just got more confused. "He's crying because you said …" he said with calm, his voice trailing off as he wondered how to say it without saying it. "Why would he even care?"

"I don't know, dude," Spot answered with a shrug, no longer yelling. "He probably loves Jesus or some shit. I assumed Speed enrolled in a Catholic school so he'd always be able to beat everyone up, but maybe their family really likes God or whatever."

"Huh," Bam replied, looking deep in thought as silence resided.

_Silence_. Like, no crying.

Spot jerked his head to the kid, his eyes widening when he took in Hunter offering him a cookie. "If that's poisoned I'm going to kick your ass," was the first thing he could think of to say.

"Dude," Hunter replied as Derek hesitated to bite into the cookie. "That's morbid. You really think I'm going kill a kid by feeding him cookies?" He looked down to see the boy looking at him with wide terrified eyes. Hunter smiled as he rubbed his back. "I wouldn't. Promise," he said. "I'll even eat half of it to prove it. In fact, they're delicious cookies; I'll eat half of it just to eat half of it."

The boy pulled the cookie away from Hunter uncertainly, not quite sure whether he wanted to give up half or not. He looked around the room and flinched slightly when his eyes landed on Spot.

Hunter ignored all the nonverbal body language. "Nom nom nom! Cookies!" he said in a deep voice. "I'll eat all your cookies!" He grabbed Derek up, tickling his sides as the kid burst out with laughter-infused pleas.

Spot and Bam shared a look from the other side of the room.

"What the fuck am I looking at?" Spot muttered to Bam, not taking his eyes off Hunter being good at handling a child.

"Hallucination," Bam muttered back. "I read about this on : the government is slowly putting LSD in our water supply to turn us all into whackjobs. They probably hired a new guy to dispense it this week, and he fucked up and put too much in."

Spot looked at Bam to frown at him before focusing his attention back on Hunter and Derek. "I'm actually having a really hard time deciding which one to believe," he finally muttered.

* * *

 

"You're not going to convince me of anything," Speed announced as soon as Slingshot had ushered them both into his bedroom and closed the door. "Kidnapping my cousin? Are you fucking serious?" he asked, pulling at his hair as he paced the room. "He's just some little kid running around playing pretend! I don't know how-"

"I know Spot's not the best person on earth to work for," Slingshot interrupted, he shot a quick look to the closed door, worrying if Stealth was listening on the other side. Dude had ears like an elephant. "But, even so, Spot's-"

"... _Really_ good at convincing people to be just as deranged as him?" Speed finished, whirling around to face Slingshot. "The kid's, like, thirteen years old, Sling. He doesn't have the mental capacity at this age to care for _anyone_ , let alone my impressionable cousin. He goes around beating people up and making threats. Where the fuck are his god damn parents?"

Slingshot blinked at him. "Huh. I guess I never really thought of that," he finally answered before shrugging. "Dead, maybe? Don't want him? Too doped up to care that they haven't seen their son in months?" He crossed his arms as he looked at the ground and shrugged again. "Those are all pretty typical stories you hear from homeless kids," he said quietly. He looked up at Speed and asked in a louder voice, "How about yours?"

"Too doped up to care that they haven't seen their son in months," Speed answered in a quiet and hollow voice. "Derek's are dead, and his foster parents don't really give a fuck about him," He stared at the ground in silence for several seconds before loudly swallowing and looking back up at Slingshot. "But that doesn't change the situation with Spot," he said, getting back on track.

"Spot's different from other kids," Slingshot tried to explain. "He's … mature?"

"Mature?" Speed asked, crossing his arms. "Mature _how_ , exactly? Give me one example of him being mature." He started pacing again, not giving Slingshot the time to answer. "Just because his temper tantrums are more violent than other kids doesn't make it _not_ a temper tantrum."

"I wouldn't call them-"

"Word on the street is this is the most violent gang in New York," Speed interrupted Slingshot. "We're not even a real gang, dude! We have a reputation and we're only six people! You think this is the environment I want Derek to be a part of?"

"You're wrong," Spot said, walking through the door. "We don't have six people. We either have five or we have seven. _You're_ the one that insisted your brother be taken care of."

Speed spun around to face him. "Okay, first thing? He's my cousin, you humongous _douchebag_. Second, this is nothing like what I asked for. I told you not to make him a gang member!"

Spot crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "You said I didn't _have to_ turn him into a gang member, not that I wasn't allowed to. And if I'm giving away all this shit you bet your ass he'll be doing shit to earn it."

"He's nine years old!" Speed yelled. "What the hell do you think he's going to do for you?" He pulled at his hair. "Ugh! That's not even the point!" He clenched his teeth and forced out a sigh before glaring at Spot. "Look, Derek is my responsibility, and I'm not going to have him brought up in this … this _dystopia_."

"What the fuck does that even _mean_?" Spot asked, glaring right back.

"Dystopia?" Slingshot asked calmly. "It's like a utopia. Except, you know, the complete opposite."

"You think this gang's fucked up?" Spot asked, snarling at Speed.

Speed didn't back down. "Are there people who _don't_?"

Spot took a step towards him so they were chest to chest. "I'll show you what's fucked up when I reach into your throat and pull out your small intestines," he growled.

"Jesus!" Slingshot exclaimed, before walking over and pulling them apart. He turned towards Spot. "Boss, fucking calm your ass down. There's a reason I took him upstairs," he snapped before turning to Speed and addressing him in a calmer voice. "Look, I know this isn't the ideal situation, but this is what we have. If we're shelling out resources for people we've gotta keep 'em close. That includes both you and Derek. It's too dangerous otherwise; other gangs don't like us too much."

"Oh, yeah, I can't imagine why," Speed replied, crossing his arms.

Slingshot put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I know it'll be a hard adjustment, but I'll help anyway I can. Let me know what you need to feel comfortable with Derek being here and I'll do my best to make sure it happens."

"No cussing," Speed answered immediately. "No violence or talking about violence. He needs to keep going to school. And he needs to be watched. He needs his books, so he can read. And I want him eating healthy: fruits and vegetables. And-"

"Jesus, fuck, we're turning the poor kid into a pussy," Spot muttered, rubbing his forehead.

"Actually," Slingshot said with a frown, "weren't you supposed to be watching him?"

Spot shrugged. "I gave him a box of matches and a can of gasoline and told him to go crazy. He seemed happy enough when I left."

"You _what_?" Speed screamed, his voice cracking in panic before he rushed out of the room.

Spot watched as he left. "Damn, he's fast. Think he used to be on the track team?" he asked, turning to see Slingshot glaring at him. He waited several seconds before finally shrugging. "What? It was a joke."

"Not. Funny. Spot," Slingshot replied through clenched teeth before going after Speed..

* * *

Speed rushed downstairs to see his cousin loudly laughing on the couch with Bam beside him making expressive hand gestures. While he was glad not to see any matches or gasoline in the vicinity it didn't do much to calm him down. "You better be keeping whatever it is you're telling him to a PG rating!" he yelled across the room.

Bam's face fell before turning to Speed and lighting back up again. "Hey, friend!"

"Not your friend," Speed muttered.

Bam didn't lose his enthusiasm. "I was just telling him about this really cool abandoned warehouse not too far from here. They've got a forklift that still works. We were gonna go after dinner."

"No you aren't," Speed replied, crossing his arms. "Derek is not allowed in _abandoned warehouses_. For one, it's trespassing and against the law."

"But Bam says he does it all the time!" Derek whined.

" _And for another_ ," Speed said, giving Derek a pointed look, "it's dangerous. No abandoned buildings, Derek."

"But Seth!"

"I said, ' _no'_ , Derek!" Speed yelled, turning as soon as he heard someone come down the stairs. "You see what this is already starting?" he asked as soon as he saw Slingshot. "I leave him alone for twenty minutes and he's already turning into a hooligan!"

"Better a hooligan than a pussy," Spot muttered loudly, brushing past Slingshot.

Slingshot glared at the back of Spot's head for half a second before turning to address Speed. "It's a new situation; everyone still needs some adjusting." He turned towards Bam. "Bam, no abandoned buildings for Derek, okay? He's to stay inside for now."

"What? No fair!" Bam and Derek said simultaneously.

"He's going to be beyond useless if he can't even go outside," Spot muttered as he plopped himself down on the couch next to Bam. "And if I've gotta raise a kid he's not going to be some pussy ass nerd that never goes outside."

" _Raise_?" Speed asked, whirling around to face Spot. " _You_ aren't raising anyone. You're not even allowed to _talk_ to him!"

Spot silently snorted. "I'll do whatever the fu-"

" _Spot_!" Slingshot interrupted. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose once he was certain Spot wasn't going to let the curse word slip.

"... The fuck I want," Spot finished with a smirk.

"Jesus fuck!" Slingshot cussed before quickly covering his mouth with his hand.

"That's it!" Speed exclaimed. "We aren't staying here! No way! I'm taking Derek home," he declared, striding over to his little cousin.

Derek immediately latched onto Bam. "No! I don't wanna! _You_ go home! I'm staying here!"

Bam hugged Derek. "Yeah," he said, looking up at Speed. "I don't want him to leave. He's a cool little kid. Did you know he can belch the alphabet?"

Speed's lip curled in disgust. "He shouldn't be-"

"Belching the alphabet is still completely useless," Spot interrupted, putting his hands behind his head and looking towards the ceiling. "Can't stay here if you're going to be deadweight."

"Don't call Derek deadweight!" Speed complained when he saw the pout starting to form on his cousin's face.

"What the fuck do you care what I call him?" Spot asked calmly. "I thought you didn't want him here anyway."

"Stop cussing!" Speed commanded.

"Just stop talking, Spot," Slingshot demanded a second later. "You're just making everything worse."

"You both can go fuck yourselves," Spot answered, leaning forward in his seat. "It's my god damn house and I can fucking cuss if I fucking want to."

Slingshot loudly sighed as Speed snarled at Spot.

"You don't understand the word 'compromise', do you?" Slingshot asked, exasperated.

"He doesn't understand anything!" Speed declared loudly.

"I don't fucking care if he cusses." Derek argued from the couch. "I wanna-"

" _No_!" Speed interrupted, his eyes wide as he strode over to Derek and jerked him off the couch and out of Bam's hold. "No. No. No. We are leaving. Right now."

"Spot said I can do whatever I want if I work for him!" Derek yelled as he was pulled by the arm towards the door.

"Except you don't work for me yet," Spot reminded him as he lit up a cigarette. "And you probably won't because you sound pretty useless to me."

"You're not working for him at all! Ever!" Speed shouted at his cousin.

"Why the hell did we do all that work to get Speed if you're just going to push him out the door, you fucking dick?" Slingshot yelled at Spot.

"Why do all my friends keep leaving me?" Bam yelled from the couch.

Their arguing was cut short by a loud crash from the kitchen.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, who the fuck left Hunter alone in the kitchen?" Slingshot asked when he realized who wasn't present.

"I was watching the kid," Bam said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I'm not a kid!" Derek exclaimed immediately.

"I told you the bastard'd be a handful," Spot grumbled, getting up from the couch to head into the kitchen.

Hunter came into the living room before Spot got halfway across the room. "Okay, so, I might have broken the blender, maybe?"

"We have a blender?" Bam asked at the same time as Slingshot asked, "Why the hell were you even using the blender?"

"Yeah!" Hunter answered Bam, hopping on his toes as he turned to face Slingshot. "So, I was reading about this diet that's supposed to be really healthy. You can't have carbs, so I was thinking bacon and fried cheese for dinner. It's perfect for a growing boy!"

"No, it's not!" Speed shouted.

"What part of that requires a fucking blender?" Spot asked, rolling his eyes.

Slingshot pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just wish we could have a normal evening. Just fucking one. Please, for the love of god."

"What the fuck about _fried cheese_ makes you think it's healthy?" Bam shouted.

Derek walked over to Hunter during all the shouting and gave the hem of his shirt a couple tugs. He pointed at the blender as soon as Hunter looked down at him. "I can fix that for you," he offered quietly.

Hunter smiled as he nodded and grabbed the boy's hand, leading him into the kitchen.

It took thirty minutes for anyone to realize that the living room was short two people. By the time everyone stormed the kitchen the blender was working again and Hunter was trying to fry a block of cheese.

"Huh," Spot said, looking at Derek. "Guess you've got a place to stay after all, Gadget. Find a bed," he said before strolling back out of the kitchen.

"I'm not fucking eating fried cheese for dinner," Bam said as he shoved Hunter away from the stove. "Move your ass so I can make something edible."

"I never agreed to let Derek-" Speed began just to be interrupted by Gadget.

"Nope, nope, nope!" Gadget sang, leaping onto Hunter's back. "I'm working for Spot now and that means you're not the boss of me!"

"That's not how this works!" Speed argued.

Slingshot put a hand on his shoulder. "I've been trying to tell everyone that since I joined. It doesn't work. Just let it go."

* * *

"Sooo … turns out we don't have enough beds," Slingshot said, leaning against the doorframe of Spot's bedroom.

Spot flipped the page of the magazine he was reading as he laid in bed. "That's your job," he said, not bothering to look up.

"Yeah, well, maybe if you would've told me you were picking up another member today I would've been equipped to handle it," Slingshot said, frowning down at his boss. "You wanna let me in on exactly what you were planning with this little stunt, by the way?"

"Exactly what happened," Spot answered, still not looking at his second-in-command. "We've got Speed and we've got a tech guy. Mission accomplished."

"Spot, you didn't-" Slingshot said loudly before he shut the door and walked farther into the room. "Spot you did not _plan_ all that," he said in a quieter voice. "You did not plan that if you kept being a stupid little shit Gadget would eventually fix the blender, thus forcing Speed to stay."

"I knew he'd do _something_ eventually," Spot insisted.

"You did not! You almost chased Speed out of here," Slingshot pointed out. "And then what would have happened?"

"Then he'd be gone, and that'd be alright," Spot answered before flipping another page in his magazine. "I have no use for people who don't fight for what they want. Gadget fought to stay; Speed fought to leave." He shrugged. "It was fun to watch."

Slingshot sighed as he hovered near his boss's bed. "What's sad is I totally believe you."

"Why wouldn't you? I'm brilliant," Spot answered, scooting over to make room for Slingshot next to him, still not dropping his eyes from the magazine.

"I wasn't saying it for the 'brilliant' aspect of it so much as the psychopathic aspect of it," Slingshot said with a frown before joining Spot on the bed.

"They're basically the same thing," Spot reasoned.

Slingshot laid with him in silence for several minutes before turning towards him. "Do you check out my ass when I leave the room?"

Spot dropped his magazine. " _What_?" he asked, finally looking at Slingshot with both eyebrows raised.

"Hunter says that whenever I leave a room you always stare at my ass," Slingshot said calmly. "Is it true?"

"Get off my bed."

Slingshot smirked before rolling on top of Spot. "It's fine if you do. I've looked at yours too, you know. I figure it's time to stop playing with each other, don't you think? Stop all the teasing and sidelong looks?"

Spot's breath was coming in short gasps. "Slingshot, if you don't get the fuck off of me right now I'll … I'll …"

Slingshot burst out laughing as he rolled off Spot. "Man, the great Spot, King of all Brooklyn, so shellshocked he can't even come up with a threat." He patted Spot's shoulder. "Sorry, Boss, I just couldn't miss a chance to see you flustered. I knew you were all talk."

Spot glared before finally leaping towards him, knocking them both off the bed. "I'll show you who's all talk, you motherfucker," he growled before kissing him.

* * *

Spot rolled out of bed at around two in the morning, tired of Slingshot rolling on top of him. Slingshot probably planned this whole thing after giving his bed away and realizing they didn't have any more open. Probably tricked Spot into kissing him, just so he could smuggle his way into Spot's bed.

It was to be admired, really.

Even if that did mean that Spot lost this particular battle, since he was going down to sleep on the couch. A fact that Spot would make sure Sling paid for, since he never took losing well.

He glared when he got down the steps and realized the living room light was still on. "We're paying for the fucking electric in this piece of shit place, you idiots," he grumbled to himself as he walked into the living room.

He froze when he saw Gadget sitting on the couch, staring at him with wide eyes. It took several seconds of staring back before Spot could formulate words. "Y-yo."

"H-hi," Gadget stuttered back. "I- You're not going to kick me out because I have the lights on, are you?"

Spot shrugged. "Guess not." He frowned at him. "You are sitting on my bed though."

Gadget immediately shot up from the couch, his eyes wide. "S-s-sorry. I didn't realize. I mean, I thought-" he stuttered before quietly asking, "Did I steal your bed?"

Spot crossed his arms as he raised an eyebrow. " _Yes_. That's what I just fucking told you, for the love of god. You were _sitting_ on it. How can I make it more clear than that?"

"N-n-no, I meant, like," Gadget started before taking a breath and trying again. "I meant, uh, like, maybe, I stole your bed before this? So, uh, I mean-"

Spot massaged his temple. "How can you not be retarded?" he muttered too quiet for Gadget to hear. "Alright, listen," he said, sighing as he looked at Gadget. "I'm sleeping on the couch tonight, and you're in my way. So, go the fuck upstairs and go to bed so you'll stop fucking bothering me, okay?"

Gadget loudly swallowed, tears already running down his face. "Y-yes," he answered, nodding before he took off for the stairs.

Spot grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past him. "Alright, we're taking care of this crying thing right the fuck now," he decided, pulling Gadget back towards the couch and sitting them both down. "No more fucking crying," he said, looking at Gadget and shaking his head. "No more. Ever. Got me? You in a god damn gang, not a preschool; fucking act like it."

Gadget bit his lip as he nodded at Spot. He sniffled before wiping his arm across his nose.

"That's disgusting," Spot replied, rolling his eyes. "And just one more reason to man the fuck up and stop being a snivelling idiot."

Gadget nodded again. "Y-you aren't going to kick me out, are you? O-or kill me? Seth says you could kill me."

"Who the fuck is-?" Spot started to ask before he remembered. Speed. They were talking about Speed. "I could kill you, yeah," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "Probably won't. As for kicking you out, I wouldn't have tried to get you here so hard if I didn't want you."

"B-b-but you …" Gadget began, before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to continue. "You didn't try at all."

Spot slung his arm over Gadget's shoulders and smirked at him. "Hey, you aren't the easiest person to kidnap, you know. You realize how much duct tape I had to waste on you?"

Gadget smiled back, sniffing one more time as he nodded.

"Alright, so we're clear then?" Spot asked, raising an eyebrow. "No more crying. And sleep in your own damn bed," he said, nudging Gadget off the couch. "I didn't give up mine just so you wouldn't sleep in yours."

TBC

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Spot's asking Derek what he can provide for the gang, and Spot says "forget about it," I can't help but read it in Henry Winkler's voice and imagine Spot impersonating Fonzie. So, if in later chapters you find Spot saying, "Ayyyy!" you can make better sense of my insanity.
> 
> I really liked writing this chapter! Spot proved to be hilarious trying to deal with a normal, nine-year-old child.


	8. Rambler or How Spot Became Boss

 

THREE YEARS LATER

Gadget: Age 12  
Bam: Age 15  
Sean: Age 16  
Slingshot: Age 17  
Stealth: Age 18  
Speed: Age 20  
Hunter: Age 20

Spot tried to roll over in bed, stopping when he felt an arm holding him in place. "What the fuck are you doing?" he mumbled as he wiped the spit from his chin.

"You gave away the last bed again," Slingshot mumbled back.

"I know _that_ ," Spot answered, knocking Slingshot's arm off him as he sat up. "I meant, 'what the fuck do you think you're doing _cuddling_ me?' You're being a fucking fag."

"I _am_ a fucking fag," Slingshot answered, rolling his eyes as he sat up as well. "And this wouldn't be an issue if you'd stop recruiting everyone all at once. It's stupid to get more beds, since half of them are going to leave as soon as you start threatening them. Not to mention, we don't really have the space for more beds anyway, even though we live in a fucking hotel."

"I was thinking about tearing down some walls in the basement and putting up some bunkbeds," Spot answered, stretching.

"The basement?" Slingshot asked, getting out of the bed before Spot. "The same basement that smells like mold and barely has any working lights?"

"We have more than one basement?" Spot replied, catching the pants that Slingshot threw at him.

"Don't be a smartass," his second-in-command said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to scare 'em off even faster if you throw 'em in that hole in the ground."

"Yeah? So?" Spot replied, finally getting out of bed so he could put his pants on. "You're the one who's so insistent on accepting every piece of shit that walks in here. I'm just weeding them out quicker."

"You ever hear the phrase 'safety in numbers'?" Slingshot asked, throwing on one of Spot's shirts. It was a little short at the waist, but he could change as soon as he got back to his own bedroom.

"You ever hear the phrase 'go fuck yourself'?" Spot grumbled back.

Slingshot just laughed. "That was weak. Looks like you didn't get enough sleep." He threw him a shirt when he realized Spot wasn't even looking for one.

"You did keep me up half the night playing with my fucking dick," Spot mumbled, running both hands through his hair after he had put on his shirt.

"Must be a side effect of being a fucking fag," Slingshot answered before walking over and swiftly kissing Spot on the mouth.

Spot grinned through his glare. "It might be catching."

Slingshot smiled at him. "Does that mean you're going to play with _my_ dick tonight?"

"It _means_ I'm not going to punch you in the mouth for kissing me," Spot replied, trying and failing to hold back his grin. "Fucking faggot."

Slingshot rolled his eyes before smacking Spot on the ass. "Relax, would you? We're alone. Not like I'm out there doing this shit in front of the recruits."

Spot grabbed him by the balls through his jeans, squeezing slightly. "Just because we aren't around people doesn't mean I don't think it's fucking annoying."

Slingshot nodded as he clenched his teeth against the pain; audibly sighing as soon as Spot released him. "Message received," he said as soon as the pain eased enough for him to talk. "God damn," he muttered before looking towards Spot. "You know, once upon a time you were all for gang's being sympathetic and welcoming to gays."

"You were imagining things," Spot mumbled as he plopped down on the bed to put on his boots.

"No, I definitely remember it. You were off chasing Bam around, proposing marriage." Slingshot ducked when a shoe was thrown at him. "Promised he'd be your queen, I think it was."

Spot leaned forward on his bed, glaring at Slingshot. "Just because I let you sleep next to me sometimes doesn't mean I'm going to hesitate to kill you, you fucking cock sucker." He went back to tying the one shoe he had left. "And I'm not a fucking fag."

Slingshot raised both eyebrows at him as he brought him back his shoe. "Boss, what are you, then, if you aren't gay?" he asked slowly. "I realize it might not be the best revelation about yourself, but you _have_ sucked my-"

"Shut the fuck _up_ , Slingshot," Spot demanded, snatching back his other shoe.

"I'm just saying, this denial thing … It's not exactly healthy, you know?" Slingshot replied, sitting next to Spot on the bed. "And if you actually don't think you are, then maybe it's time you had sex with," Slingshot shrugged, "you know, a _girl_."

Spot turned his head to glower at Slingshot after he had got done tying both shoes. "I don't want to have sex with a _girl_."

"Okay, well, that makes you-"

"Shut the fuck _up_ , Slingshot," Spot said again, standing up and running his hands through his hair. He leaned close to Slingshot so he could whisper. "There's a difference between liking dicks and being a fag.'

Slingshot blinked at him. "No, Spot, there's really not."

"Yes, there is!" Spot snapped back before he started pacing. "Because I'm not a fucking twink and neither are you, and I know about fucking power tools and cars and-"

"You don't know a thing about cars, Boss. That's what Speed's for, remember?" Slingshot pointed out, grabbing at Spot's arm and pulling him towards him. "It's fine to not be a stereotype. You're gay because you like dicks; there's nothing else to it, alright?"

"There's something wrong with _touching_ me," Spot replied with a glare, pulling away.

Slingshot pinched the bridge of his nose before getting off the bed and patting Spot on the shoulder. "You can't change being gay, and you're not going to be able to own anything if you can't own yourself," he said, letting himself out of Spot's bedroom. "Might as well man up and embrace it, Boss," he continued from the hall.

Spot rolled his eyes. "Not embracing shit if it means I've gotta talk about my fucking feelings all the time," he muttered to himself before following after Slingshot.

* * *

 

"It was his idea!" Hunter yelled, pointing a finger at Gadget. They were both covered in flour and eggs, as was the entire kitchen around them. " _I_ just wanted to make pancakes from the mix, but _he_ insisted on making them from scratch."

"That's a lie! You said you wanted to make pancakes out of coconut flour," Gadget replied, wiping egg off his face. "That's impossible to do if we were using the mix."

Bam crossed his arms as he fixed his glare on Gadget. "It doesn't matter who's idea it was. It was _your_ job to watch him." He ran a hand through his hair. "You two better be glad Slingshot gave his bed away again last night."

"Awww, Boss is gettin' a little somethin' somethin'," Hunter said with a smirk, jerking his hips forward a few times. "Bet that lucky sonuvabitch is walking on clouds right now."

"What's Boss getting?" Gadget asked, looking between the two of them.

"I'm interested, too," Spot answered as he came through the kitchen door. "Talking about how angry I was going to get that my kitchen's completely fucking trashed?" he asked, glaring between the three of them.

"Nah, we were talk-"

Bam immediately put a hand over Hunter's mouth, effectively shutting him up. "Yep, that's it, Bossman," he answered with a smile.

"Well, I am having a fantastic morning," Slingshot interrupted, coming into the kitchen behind Spot and freezing as soon as he saw the mess. "How did you manage to get it on the ceiling?" he asked, looking up at the egg and flour mixture dripping onto the floor from above them.

"Bet you said the same thing to Spot last night," Hunter said as soon as he had jerked his head away from Bam's hand.

Gadget looked at everyone in confusion as Bam's eyes widened. "What did Spot get on the ceiling?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bam asked, rounding onto Hunter. "Why would you just-?" He interrupted himself by letting out a growl. "You've got a fucking death wish."

"They're just joking," Slingshot said, turning to Spot. "Not like they don't know when I have to give my bed away. It's a running joke. Er … not that they joke about it a lot," he said, his eyes wide.

"Maybe they wouldn't be joking at _all_ if you didn't make it so obvious I stuck it up your ass last night," Spot said, striding past Hunter and Gadget to get to the fridge.

"Ha! I _fucking_ called it!" Hunter exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air.

"Yeah, and betting against _whom_ , exactly, you big doofus?" Bam asked loudly, crossing his arms at the other man.

"Okay, he's lying," Slingshot said over Bam, a blush covering his entire face. "We've never actually … you know. We just … I-I mean we do other stuff, but-"

"What happened to _owning_ it, Sling?" Spot asked before drinking some orange juice straight out of the carton.

"Y-you-!" Slingshot started before pausing. "There is _no_ way you made me keep it a secret for _years_ just so you could humiliate me _now_!"

"You've been doing it for _years_?" Bam asked loudly, looking between them. "Since when? How _many_ years?"

"I never said you had to keep it a secret," Spot answered, shrugging. "You did that all by yourself. I would have told someone if they would've asked."

"Told them what?" Gadget asked, his gaze scanning over everyone else in the room. "What've you been keeping a secret?" He turned to Spot. "You stuck something up Slingshot's ass?"

"Oh, Jesus," Slingshot mumbled, his face turning even redder at Gadget's questions.

"You familiar with the term 'homosexuality', Gadget?" Hunter asked with a smirk, stooping so he could meet the younger boy's eyes.

"What the hell are you telling my cousin, you bastard?" Speed asked, crossing the kitchen in four long strides to jerk Hunter up by his collar. "Haven't I told you not to talk to him?"

"You tell _everybody_ not to talk to him," Bam pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"That's because you're all horrible influences on him!" Speed declared.

"Why are you even here?" Gadget asked, glaring up at his older cousin. "Don't you have a run you were supposed to make this morning?"

"Already did it," Speed replied, crossing his arms and glaring back. "And don't try getting out of me yelling at _you_ by trying to get Spot to yell at _me_."

"Why are you even yelling at me in the first place?" Gadget asked, pointing to Hunter. " _He's_ the one who was talking to me!"

"I'm not going to yell at anybody," Spot said after he had put the juice away and walked over to Bam. "I'm actually having a really fantastic morning."

"Plowing Sling really helps your temper, huh?" Bam muttered back to him as he watched Gadget and Speed argue back and forth.

"Why? You wanna borrow him?" Spot asked back with a smirk.

"You should know not to listen to Hunter, Derek!" Speed yelled.

Bam put his arm around Spot's shoulders, matching his smirk. "Why borrow him when we can share, eh?"

"I told you not to call me that! It's 'Gadget' now, _Seth_ ," Gadget complained with a pout.

Spot let out a silent snort. "As if you could keep up."

"You can call me 'Seth' as much as you want, _Derek_. _I'm_ not ashamed of _my_ name," Speed answered. "And I'm not going to start calling you 'Gadget' when I've been calling you 'Derek' since you were born. 'Gadget's' a stupid name anyway."

Bam raised an eyebrow at Spot, keeping his arm around him. "You guys get into some freaky shit? Like bondage? Or, like, freakier shit?" he asked quietly.

"You ever hear of watersports?" Spot muttered back.

"I like 'Gadget'!" Gadget yelled at Speed. "And I don't understand why Hunter can do whatever he wants and _I'm_ the one who gets in trouble! It's not fair!"

"That's, like, urine and blood stuff, right?" Bam muttered to Spot, pulling a face. "Gross, dude."

Spot shrugged as his smirk grew. "I know, man, but Slingshot loves the _piss_ out of it. Literally."

"Whatever he's telling you is a lie!" Slingshot yelled from across the room as soon as he heard his name. "What's he telling you?" he asked as he strode over to them.

Speed continued to yell at Gadget. "Because Hunter is a moron and you aren't. I expect more from you."

"He's almost a decade older than me!" Gadget yelled back.

"What's he telling you?" Slingshot repeated as soon as he reached Bam and Spot.

"Watersports, dude?" Bam replied, shaking his head. "So gross."

"Age doesn't make you not an idiot, Derek!" Speed shouted. "It just makes it sadder when you _are_ an idiot!"

Slingshot looked between Spot and Bam. "What, like wakeboarding? How is that gross?"

Bam burst out laughing. "Are you kidding me?" He turned towards Spot. "You're having sex with a dude this vanilla?"

"Fine, whatever," Gadget snapped. "But whether Hunter's an idiot or not isn't my fault! I'm not his god damn babysitter."

"Don't _curse_ , Derek," Speed lectured.

"We're not having sex!" Slingshot exclaimed. "We just do hand and mouth stuff," he muttered before turning to Spot. "Tell him," he demanded.

"' _Hands and mouth_ stuff', he says," Bam interrupted, laughing louder.

"Don't call me _Derek_ , Seth."

Spot nodded to Bam. "And urine stuff."

"What?" Slingshot exclaimed again, quickly turning to Bam. "There's no urine stuff!" He blanched. "Oh, Jesus, is that what watersports are? That's so fucking gross, Spot."

"B-b-boss?" a kid asked, sticking his head into the kitchen. "Th-there's someone here f-for you.," he stuttered, looking everywhere but at Spot.

"That one's not lasting," Spot muttered to Bam and Slingshot before addressing the kid. "Then show him in, dipshit. Do you not know how?"

"Can't imagine what would drive him away," Slingshot muttered back as the kid hightailed it out of the kitchen.

"If you would stop picking up pussies this wouldn't be a problem," Spot snapped back, turning to face his second-in-command.

"They aren't pussies! You're just terrifying," Slingshot argued back, crossing his arms and glaring at his boss.

"Yeah, terrifying to pussies," Bam said, smirking at Spot.

Slingshot rolled his eyes. "Stop sucking up."

"Says the person who's _actually_ sucking-" Bam started before being interrupted by Speed.

"Whoa, whoa whoa! _Child_ present, remember?" Speed snapped, quickly covering Gadget's ears.

Gadget pulled away immediately. "I'm not a child!" he argued, frowning at his older cousin.

"The way I understand it you're all children." a man said, waltzing into their kitchen.

"I'm twenty years old, dodo-brains," Hunter snapped.

Speed squinted at him for a few seconds. "You realize that calling someone 'dodo-brains' is a horrible way to prove that you aren't a child, right?"

"Tch, _no_ , I _don't_ realize that," Hunter replied, scoffing at him. "It's not like I called him a doo-doo head, did I?" he asked, not waiting for a reply. "Yeah, uh-huh. That's what I thought. You're _welcome_."

"You're a god damn idiot," Bam told Hunter before turning to Slingshot. "This one of your recruits? Because he seems like a douche."

Slingshot slowly shook his head. "Not one of mine. I don't recruit mentally deranged homeless people that smell like they've been living in cat piss for half their lives."

"Well, that's just rude, on so many levels," the man said, putting a hand in his pocket and quickly flashing a gun. Speed immediately shoved Gadget behind him in response to the threat. "One," the man said once he had gotten everyone's attention, "your gang's a god damn joke. You've got absolutely no money coming in to support your men or territories. You steal shit from stores and other gangs to keep your men fed, which is about the stupidest long-term strategy I've ever heard. Second, I'm not fucking homeless or deranged."

"You certainly _seem_ homeless and deranged," Slingshot muttered. Thankfully, it went ignored by the stranger in their kitchen.

"I just got done whipping up a batch of the good stuff," the man continued. He reached into his other pocket and threw a baggy of white crystals to Bam.

Bam caught them and got an intense urge to bolt with his new bag of crack. 'So _much_ crack,' his brain supplied as he did nothing but stare at it for several seconds. He quickly dropped it on the ground and stepped away from it. "We don't want that shit here, man," he finally said, looking up at the stranger. His eyes drifted back to the crack on the floor just a few seconds later.

The guy just smiled at him. "Now, hear me out. I'm not _giving_ it to you. I'm not even here to encourage you to _use_ it. I'm here to encourage you to _sell_ it. _This_ ," he said, pointing down to the bag of crack, "is what's going to make your gang that motherfucking money." He looked over all the boys in the kitchen, smiling at each one. " _This_ is what's going to allow you to maintain your hold in Brooklyn."

Slingshot looked over at Spot, but stepped forward when it appeared his boss wasn't prepared to say anything. "We're not drug dealers," Slingshot said. "We don't want that shit here, and we're certainly not going to sell it for you. We're also not fucking stupid. I'm supposed to risk my men getting sent to jail for selling your shit, while you make money with no risk to yourself? Go fuck yourself, man. Shit doesn't work like that."

"It does if the rewards are worth the risks," the man said. "And I'm prepared to make them worth it. You set the prices, you give me twenty percent, and I'll even give you that bag on front street."

"Who the fuck says 'front street'?" Hunter asked, looking over at Speed. "Is this bozo serious?"

"Wants to be a gangster?" Speed guessed. "Fucking amatuer, man."

"How come you can cuss, and I can't?" Gadget asked from behind him. "That's bullshit, man."

"Little bro! Not cool, dude," Hunter said before Speed could start in on a lecture.

"I don't think you can make fun of someone saying 'front street' if you immediately follow it up by calling someone 'little bro'," Gadget replied, crossing his arms as Speed turned around to make sure Gadget was still behind him.

Slingshot looked over at Spot, who had yet to say anything, before looking back at the drug dealer. "We're still not interested," he said, crossing his arms.

The man just smiled at him. "Worried about your inferiors sampling the merchandise?" he asked, jerking his head towards Bam who had yet to take his eyes off the bag on the floor. "Just another reason all this shit is going to go up in smoke," he said, spreading his arms out wide to indicate he meant everything. "Can't even trust your people to make you a little dough, eh?"

"We trust them just fine," Slingshot snapped. "It's you I don't fucking trust. Take your shit and get the fuck out."

"Look, Spot, I know you want to make it big," the man said, looking at Slingshot. "I've been hearing the stories about you for _years_. That you're unhinged. That you're never going to accomplish anything because you have no fucking direction and no fucking money. But I can fix that, ya see? I can give you both direction _and_ money."

"He's not Spot, you doofus," Hunter said. "Jesus, you come into a gang house, and you don't even know what the boss looks like?" he asked before turning to Speed. "Man, you were right. Fucking _amatuer_ , man."

"If you're not Spot then where is he?" the man asked, glaring at Slingshot. "And how dare you make decisions for your leader. You're overstepping your bounds, peon."

"Bam! Eyes on me," Spot demanded, taking a step forward and finally speaking.

Bam's attention immediately snapped to his boss, blinking as he refocused on what was happening around him as opposed to his fantasies involving the crack on the floor.

Spot took another step, eyes narrowed on the man in front of him. "You don't get to call anyone in this gang a peon, you sack of fucking shit-balls. You fucking piece of god damn shit. How dare you even think of _existing_ in my city?"

"Whoa, man, I didn't do anything to you," the man said, backing up a few steps as Spot advanced on him. He stuck his hand back in his pocket and pulled out his gun halfway.

"The name 'Conlon' mean anything to you, shit for brains?" Spot asked, stopping his stride towards the man to eye the gun. He made eye contact with Slingshot before quickly looking over at Gadget.

Slingshot nodded, getting his message loud and clear. _Shots are going to be fired. Get Gadget the hell out of here._ He backed up slowly, making eye contact with Speed before nodding his head. Letting him know that he was free to evacuate.

Speed backed up with Gadget still behind him, Hunter stepping forward to hide their retreat.

"'Conlon'? No, not really, but I deal with a lot of people," the man said, shrugging. "I get around, you know?"

"You used to sell him drugs," Spot said, stepping forward once more now that Gadget was leaving the room. "Used to come over to our house specifically to push him to do more," he growled. "You're the reason he's fucking dead. And now you're in my house again, trying to get us to _sell_ for you?" There was only about six inches of distance between Spot and the man now, the man pressing his back up against the wall.

"Hey, man, I think you're forgetting who's in charge here," the man said, pulling out his gun and pressing it against Spot's stomach. "I'm going to kill you before you can kill me."

Spot smirked at him. "I don't want to kill you. I want to destroy you," he told him quietly. "I'm going to come after you, and take away everything that even so much as puts a smile on your god damn fucking face. I'm going to run your drug business into the ground, and I'm going to make you _nothing_." He took a step back, his smirk growing as he put his hands up. "Now, these guys behind me?" he asked in his normal voice. "They won't kill you before you kill me, but they'll certainly kill you before you leave this fucking kitchen."

The man shifted his attention away from Spot to realize that he had three guns pointed at him. His eyes widened as he froze.

Spot leaned forward once more. "I'm saying you should leave, if you weren't following," he stage-whispered. He looked the man up and down before lifting up a corner of his mouth in disgust. "Also? You _do_ smell like piss."

* * *

 

"Guy's not got much to destroy," Slingshot said later that evening, putting down a couple pieces of papers in front of a still-fuming Spot. "He doesn't seem to have any family. Or at least no family that he's in contact with. No job as far as we can find, and no license either. Gadget pulled his ID, and the address there leads to a place that burned down a few years ago. Word on the street is he's got an apartment, but if he does it's not his name on the lease."

"Are you rambling just to tell me you didn't find any fucking information on him?"Spot snapped, finally glaring at him instead of at the papers in front of him. "Because that's not very fucking helpful, Sling."

"I talked to a contact I picked up when I was still going to school," Speed volunteered, walking over to the kitchen table to see what kind of documentation they had on the guy. "He says the dude's big on the hussle, but his shit's whack. Not a whole lot of people around here deal with him anymore. Last my guy heard he was setting up shop in the Bronx. My guess is he only came here to deal with us so he could get a foothold back in Brooklyn."

"Probably assumed we wouldn't have heard about him, since we don't deal with drugs or other gangs," Slingshot guessed. He went back over to the table and put a hand on Spot's shoulder when he found him glaring at the table top again.

"Neither your words nor your hand is fucking helpful, Sling," Spot muttered before shrugging off the hand.

"Right," Slingshot said with a nod before sitting down next to Spot. "We've got some contacts in the Bronx. I can reach out to them; tell them to keep an eye out."

"'We'?" Spot asked with a grunt.

"Er … me?" Slingshot asked backed, squinting at his boss. "Which makes them ours, right? Because, you know, I'm in this gang, too."

"Yeah, except it's not a gang problem, is it?" Spot asked, finally pausing the death glare he was sending the table to look up at his members. "This is my problem. The two aren't interchangeable," he told them before getting up from his seat and heading towards the door. "Stealth, with me," he said before leaving the room.

Slingshot and Speed both looked around the room, expecting that Stealth would be hiding in some corner or another. Slingshot even ventured a look to the ceiling, because that bastard could be pretty sneaky. He wasn't there.

It was about thirty seconds later that Stealth came down the stairs, nodded at the both of them, and followed after Spot.

"Dude's creepy as shit," Speed muttered quietly before taking a seat at the table.

Slingshot nodded before sitting across from him.

"So, what's the plan, then?" Speed asked, leaning forward as soon as Slingshot had sat down.

"Plan?"

"Yeah, a plan. Because Spot's too stubborn to let us help," Speed explained, nodding towards the door Spot had left from earlier..

Slingshot shook his head. "The plan is to sit and wait. If Spot doesn't want help, then I'm not going to interfere. That jackass from earlier, John Whosits-Whatever," he started, making up a last name because he couldn't be assed to lean forward and get the dude's name from all the documents in front of him, "he did get one thing right. It's not my gang to make decisions for. If Spot's telling me to stand down then I gotta stand down."

"Yeah, he also said that he and the gang aren't interchangeable, and we both know that's a lie. None of this would exist if it wasn't for Spot, and his absurd … whatever the hell it is he does," Speed replied.

Slingshot frowned and shook his head. "I got where I am today by listening to him when he gave an order. I'm not going to change that when he's so mad he's likely to kill me for asking him how he's doing." He stood up from the table and looked down at Speed. "That being said, his orders, as far as I'm concerned, were to stand down. And so I'll do that, no matter what you decide to do without me."

"Message received, sir," Speed said with a smirk. "Loud and clear."

* * *

 

"I should have destroyed this guy back when I was a kid," Spot muttered as he and Stealth took to the rooftops in order to get to the Bronx.

They were both silent for several minutes before Stealth said anything. "You have resources now," he quietly reminded Spot.

"I don't want to get them involved," Spot explained, hopping onto a rooftop and looking down. "I can do this without them, We just gotta find this guy and fuck his shit up. It's my specialty."

Stealth stared at him for several seconds before speaking again. "You don't want to get them involved because you don't want them to know."

Spot shrugged at him. "Maybe," he admitted. "Trying to get revenge on a drug dealer for a guy I savagely killed doesn't sound like very sane behavior."

"No one's following you because of your sane behavior," Stealth pointed out.

Spot looked at him, surprised by the fast response. Stealth was never quick to put in his two cents these days. He had grown more and more quiet as the years went on.

Stealth shrugged at him before walking over and putting a hand on Spot's shoulder. They stayed like that for several minutes before he decided to speak again, just as Spot knew he would "Do you not trust that they trust you?"

Spot looked out over the rooftops, towards the Bronx. It was only a few blocks away now. He remained quiet as he really thought about his answer, knowing he could take his time when it was just him and Stealth. "There's no sense in putting anyone in the gang in danger when the matter has nothing to do with them."

Stealth watched Spot looking over Brooklyn and couldn't help but think about years earlier when he would watch Sean looking over his river. He was still so young in so many ways, and Stealth wondered if Spot would ever gain the confidence to rule over Brooklyn like he should. It was his rightful place, after all, but Stealth worried that he may not have gotten to him fast enough. Maybe all the damage his so-called brother had done to him was permanent. Maybe there would always be some doubt in his mind that these people weren't following him, but following the gang. Maybe Spot would never realize that he _was_ the gang. "I think they would tell you that if the matter involves you then it involves the gang," he eventually said.

Spot turned to him and stared for several seconds before raising one eyebrow. "I think they would tell _you_ that you sound like a god damn fortune cookie."

Stealth smiled at him, an expression that was rare on his face, especially these days.

It made Spot feel itchy with anxiety. "I feel like we're sharing a moment here, and you're going to want to hug me or something. So I should probably tell you that if you exert any more physical contact with me I'm going to smash your face into this roof."

Stealth squeezed Spot's shoulder for a split second before removing his hand and taking a sidestep away from his boss, never losing his smile. "King's don't need hugs," he said, a phrase he had used many times before and many years ago.

"Damn right, we don't," Spot replied with a smirk, crossing his arms and finally going back to looking over Brooklyn. "So where do you think this little douche weasel's hiding?" he asked after half a minute of silence.

Stealth quietly looked at Spot for several seconds. "I bet you a pizza your people have already found him," he finally replied.

"I learned a long time ago never to take you up on a bet, Stealth," Spot replied, crossing his arms at his long-time friend. "That schizophrenia or whatever you've got going on up there," he said, flicking Stealth's forehead with his finger, "lets you cheat like a mother fucker."

* * *

 

Bam came into the lobby where Speed had set up shop. "So, I just got off the phone with my dude from the Bronx."

"Is that like, your dude-dude, you know what I mean?" Hunter asked from his spot on the floor, leaning back against the front of the couch.

Bam stared at him before shaking his head. "No, I have absolutely no idea what you mean," he replied before sitting down on the floor across from him.

"You know, like do you know this dude or do you _know_ this dude, you know what I mean?" Hunter tried again, grinning widely as he leaned over to get in Bam's face.

Bam shoved his face away. "You're kind of dumb," he said instead of answering.

" _Totally_ slept with him," Hunter replied as he leaned back against the front of the couch again.

"I will never again ask myself why Spot is so annoyed all the time," Speed told everyone as he came into the room. "You guys are a pain in the ass to control."

"I resent that remark!" Hunter exclaimed, looking up at Speed.

"More like you _resemble_ that remark," Gadget muttered as he walked past Speed to sit beside Bam. He smiled at Hunter who was now across from him. "Can we keep on task, please?"

"I want Slingshot! He's way more fun!" Hunter complained.

"Slingshot has orders to stand down," Speed explained, walking over to sit next to Hunter. "So, this one's up to us."

"Delving into Spot's past, huh? Should prove enlightening," Bam said, reaching over for the pile of documents in Speed's hand.

Speed pulled them away, out of reach. "There's a reason Spot doesn't want us to take this on with him," he said, "and I think I've found out why." He laid out the papers in the middle of everyone. "So, this guy, John Stanton, used to be a big time drug dealer around here, and he sold a lot of his shit to a Conlon by the name of Julius. Julius moved to town shortly after his parents died and was declared the legal guardian of one Sean Conlon."

"So, Spot's got a shitty past just like the rest of us, big whoop," Hunter replied, rolling his eyes. "At least he didn't end up in a fucking foster home."

"Shut up, he's getting to the good part," Gadget snapped.

"Thank you, Der-" Speed started, only to stop at his cousin's glare. He rolled his eyes before correcting himself. "Thanks, _Gadget_." He turned his focus back to the papers in front of him. "Julius took care of Spot for a few years before he was found strangled to death in his house, Spot fell off any government record, and John Stanton's business bottomed out."

"So, Stanton killed Julius, Spot left, and Stanton's business bottomed out because people found out he was murdering dudes?" Bam guessed.

"Stanton has been swearing up and down since that day he didn't kill him," Speed said. "And by all reports, Julius was Stanton's biggest customer, which is why he had to switch over to bunk shit in order to get ends to meet. Or so that's what I heard," he said. "Even if Julius did miss a payment, it doesn't seem good for business to off him just like that when he's such a big time customer."

"So, who offed him?" Bam asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the documents in front of him.

"Don't act like you can read," Hunter said, snatching the documents from the floor and paging through them.

Bam immediately jumped up and plowed his foot into Hunter's chest, moving both the man and the couch about two feet backward. "Don't be a fucking cunt rag! You know very well I can fucking read."

"Yeah, and now he knows you can kick, too," Speed replied, standing up and pushing Bam off Hunter. "Can we fucking keep on task here, please? Jesus fuck."

"He's the one who fucking started it!" Bam declared, pointing a finger at Hunter.

"He's _always_ the one who starts it." Gadget stated, rolling his eyes. "Won't catch him ever getting in _trouble_ for it though," he continued, glaring at his cousin.

"Oh, my, god, can we just stay on task, _please_!?" Speed asked, pulling at his hair. "We have some sort of murderer on our hands, you nitwits!" he explained, waving his hand towards the stack of papers Hunter was still clutching. "And it's a very real possibility that Spot thinks Stanton is the one who did it!"

"They never keep on track," Spot said, walking into the lobby through the huge double glass doors. "And I can hear you all the way from the fucking parking lot. If you insist on screaming go down to the kitchen or something."

Stealth came in from behind him, giving Spot a quick look before surveying the rest of the room. His eyes settled on Speed when he realized Slingshot wasn't there.

"So, drug dealer douche killed your brother, eh? Tragic, man," Hunter said, now leafing through all the papers Speed had gathered up. "Woe is you, huh?"

"Wasn't my brother, and, if you want to get technical, I was the one who killed him," Spot replied before striding across the room, snatching all the papers out of Hunter's hands, and ripping them into quarters.

" _You_ killed him?" Speed asked, taking a step away from his boss.

Spot turned to Stealth. "Told you they'd be unsettled," he muttered before looking back to Speed. "You find out where he is yet? I've got a bet going against you."

"No," Speed admitted, scratching at the back of his head. "I might have gotten a little bit too caught up in the conspiracy of who killed your brother."

"Not my brother," Spot corrected before turning to Stealth and smirking. "I can't believe you were actually wrong. It's about time."

Stealth rose an eyebrow, keeping his face mutual. "Forget Slingshot?" he asked after several seconds of staring.

"God damn it!" Spot cussed before dashing down the hallway that led to his second-in-command's bedroom.

"If they aren't brothers what the hell are they?" Speed asked, looking towards Stealth, only to discover that he was gone. "That dude is _so_ fucking creepy," he muttered.

* * *

 

"Hey, what're you doing?" Spot asked, bursting into Slingshot's bedroom without bothering to knock.

Slingshot quickly bunched all his papers up in front of him on the desk and threw them in a folder before guiltily looking up at his boss. He couldn't stop his wince as he made eye contact. "I might have been disobeying orders?"

"You know where to find this drug dealer fucktard?" Spot asked, stepping farther into the room while keeping the door open.

"Maybe," Slingshot answered, quickly shuffling through his papers. "I couldn't find his residence, but a contact I've got in the Bronx told me about this bar he's usually selling out of. Figure if you wanted we could just wait for him there. I'm told he shows up just a little after the sun goes down." He looked up from the paper's on his desk and saw Spot glaring at him. He immediately froze. "W-what?" he asked with wide eyes.

Spot shook his head at him. "God damn it, how is he always fucking right?" he asked before turning to the open door to see Stealth standing in the hallway. "I never agreed on that bet," he reminded him.

Stealth shrugged at him and stared for a full minute before speaking. "I'll be waiting," he said before walking off.

"That guy should _not_ be allowed to be that creepy," Slingshot said as soon as Stealth had turned and walked away. "What the fuck was he even talking about?"

"Depends," Spot replied, staring out Slingshot's bedroom door. "He's either waiting for a pizza or waiting for us to go to the bar."

"Okay, I'm not entirely sure if I'm more or less confused by that," Slingshot answered.

Spot rolled his eyes at him. "Tell me about this bar."

"You … you don't want to involve the others in this?" Slingshot asked, casting a quick look at the floor as if he would be able to see them downstairs in the lobby. "They're pretty invested in this, you know. Speed's got this whole thing going on downstairs."

"Yeah, I know. He seems to be digging up more on why I want to fuck up Drug-Dealer-Fuck's shit and less about where the stupid cock sucker is," Spot replied.

Slingshot looked at him, brows furrowed. "Spot, do you even know this guy's name? Because I haven't heard you say it once."

"Who the fuck cares what his name is?" Spot replied. "If I call someone a cock sucking bastard just assume I'm talking about Douche-Fuck. Names don't fucking matter."

"Yes, they do."

"No, they fucking don't," Spot argued back. "I don't know what the fuck _your_ name is, but that doesn't mean-"

"You don't know what the fuck my name is?" Slingshot interrupted. "We're sleeping together, for Christ's sake, and you don't know my fucking name?"

"Er … I know you're Slingshot," Spot tried, taking a step towards the door.

"My _real_ fucking name, Spot. What's my _given_ name?"

"Fuck, I don't fucking know," Spot finally admitted after half a minute at Slingshot staring at him. "Jesus, can we not make this a thing?"

You don't know your lover's fucking name!" Slingshot exclaimed loud enough for the entire floor to hear it. "How is that _not_ a thing?"

"Don't call me your lover, Sling, that's kind of disgusting."

"Ugh! I thought you were over the gay thing!" Slingshot bit out. "Or is that only when you're trying to embarrass the fuck out of me in front of everyone?"

"It's basically whatever's funnier at the time," Spot admitted with a shrug, still looking completely unapologetic.

"How is it that you only have a sense of humor when it involves hurting others?" Slingshot growled out.

"See, now you're being gay again," Spot pointed out as Slingshot strode towards his door.

"Go fuck yourself, _Sean_ ," Slingshot demanded before slamming the door closed behind him.

"This is your fucking bedroom," Spot loudly reminded him from behind the closed door.

* * *

 

"Second cousin. Thrice removed," Hunter guessed. He, Speed, Gadget, and Bam sat in their original circle, arguing over what relation Julius had to Sean, as Stealth stood several feet away, leaning against the wall.

"What does 'thrice removed' even _mean_?" Gadget asked, looking around the circle before focusing on Hunter. "And why do you insist on making everything more complicated than it needs to be?"

"Because a simple life is also a boring one," Hunter explained, nose in the air. "And everyone knows boring people are stupid."

"I know _you're_ stupid," Bam muttered.

"It describes a jump in generation," Speed explained before looking over at Hunter and narrowing his eyes. "And it describes first cousins, next second."

"And you're stupid, too," Bam said, shifting his attention to Speed. "What the fuck are you even talking about?"

"A first cousin, thrice removed could also be described as a third cousin. They both mean there's a three-generation gap. So, when you say 'second cousin, thrice removed' you're being redundant. You should just say 'cousin, four times removed'," Speed explained calmly.

"I don't understand what any of that fucking shit means," Bam replied. "I'm going for uncle."

"Don't understand why you thought that dumb idiot would understand anything you told him," Hunter told Speed. "You confused the fuck out of him as soon as you said 'thrice'."

"I'll confuse the fuck out of you when I ram your god damn head into the fucking drywall," Bam snapped, leaning forward to get in Hunter's face.

"Jesus, fuck, this is too much," Speed announced, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tuned out the arguing for a few seconds. "How do Spot and Slingshot put up with you assholes?"

"If I can't cuss I don't think it's right that you do," Gadget spoke up. "It's pretty unfair, don't cha think?" he asked before looking between Bam and Hunter. "What about step dad, and Spot just had a really feminist mom that made him take her last name?"

Bam scratched the back of his head. "I'm pretty sure if Spot was raised by a feminist he wouldn't be such a cunt to women."

"I don't think I've ever seen him _talk_ to a fucking woman," Hunter replied. " _Maybe_ the only reason he's gay is because women terrify him, because he never had a mom or any sisters growing up," he suggested quickly with wide eyes.

"Jesus, you're an idiot," Bam said, rubbing his forehead.

"How is that not a legitimate excuse to turn gay?" Hunter exclaimed.

"Because you don't _turn gay_ , you stupid asshole!" Bam yelled back.

"How come you guys can never have a conversation without it resulting in an argument the entire hotel can hear?" Slingshot asked as he entered the lobby. "Are we even still discussing the 'Spot situation'? Or did you put that off to the side so you could argue about whether gayness was an acquired or innate trait?"

"Totally genetic," Bam said quickly, covering it up with a loud cough after he said it.

"Right, anyway, I've got the name of the bar a Mr. John Stanton goes to at least three times a week, probably more," Slingshot told them, walking over to the circle but not sitting down. "I thought we could do a little reconnaissance; find out who he knows, what he knows, and what he likes. Then we can start crushing him from the inside out."

Bam raised his hand, not waiting to be acknowledged before putting in his two cents. "Honestly, I'm a little confused as to why Spot hates this guy to begin with."

"Yeah, I was kind of wondering that myself. He got some guy Spot's related to hooked on drugs before Spot killed said relative," Speed reiterated. "Doesn't seem like he really has all that much to be angry about, since he ended up killing the guy anyway."

"Boyfriend!" Hunter exclaimed, snapping his fingers together enthusiastically just to frown half a second later. "Or, er, husband, I guess, since they have the same last name."

"It was four years ago, ya dimwit." Speed replied, frowning at Hunter. "Not to mention, Spot isn't of age to marry _now_ , he couldn't have gotten married when he was fucking twelve or whatever," he snapped. "Jesus, how dumb are you morons?"

"What the fuck, man? It's Hunter coming up with the stupid ass fucking theories!" Bam accused, pointing at the man in question.

"Yeah!" Gadget added from beside Bam, pointing to Hunter as well. "It's his fault!"

"You don't even understand what we're talking about, Gadget!" Speed snapped.

"We're never going to get fucking anywhere, are we?" Slingshot groaned, plopping down to an empty space in the circle. "I don't even know what the fuck you guys are talking about."

"Well, that's entirely your fault for refusing to help us before now," Hunter replied. "We don't have the time to fill you in on every little detail. We're kind of on a deadline."

"What deadline?" Speed snapped. "Fifty fucking bucks says that you idiots are still sitting here arguing over bullshit that doesn't matter until at _least_ tomorrow afternoon." He turned to Slingshot. "I honestly have no idea how you can manage these morons," he muttered to him.

"Lots of practice and lots of patience," Slingshot muttered back.

"Julius was the son of the woman my father married," Spot explained, coming down the hall and walking into the lobby. "My father insisted on adopting the piece of shit, which is the only reason that detestable human being used to share my last name," he explained, approaching the circle of his sitting subordinates. "Are we done with the inane chatter now?" he asked, hands behind his back as he gave everyone a glare.

The lobby experienced quiet for the first time since morning.

"That's a big help, too," Slingshot leaned in to whisper to Speed.

"Fantastic," Spot replied to the silence. He smirked. "Time to get planning then."

* * *

 

It took less than a week for the gang to find out exactly what made John Stanton wake up in the morning. It took three more days to bring it all crashing down around him.

"I robbed his place last night," Slingshot said. "Planted so much weed the drugs dogs are probably barking themselves hoarse. The shit he owned wasn't wonderful, but we did get a couple more TV's out of it."

"I told all his suppliers that he's a rat," Hunter said. "Congratulations, we are now the first gang in New York City to have ever ratted on someone."

"I'm sure that's not true," Gadget replied before giving his own report. "He didn't have much information out there anyway, but I did erase what he did have. Which means no more social security card. I'd like to see that bastard try to get a job now!"

"That seems very tame in comparison to everything else we did to him," Bam said.

"I think he did fine," Speed said before his cousin could respond. He squeezed Gadget's shoulder. "I destroyed the fuck out of his car _and_ his bike, so he won't be going anywhere for awhile."

"I took pictures of his wife with the fat piece of shit she's cheating on him with," Bam said when everyone's attention fell on him. "Shit was not pretty; trust me on that. He'll get them in the mail at the motel he just checked into after Spot tried to burn his house down."

"I _did_ burn his house down, just not all of it," Spot argued.

"It's not 'burning a house down' if you only manage to burn an _eighth_ of the house," Bam pointed out. "The roof didn't cave in or anything."

"Can he live in it right now?" Spot snapped.

"He most certainly cannot," Hunter answered enthusiastically.

Spot sent a glare to Hunter before focusing back on Bam. "Right, so, mission accomplished then, huh?"

Bam just shrugged in response. "So, what now, big boss man? Cause right now he's headed for jail, and they're going to be stuck once they realize he's not a registered citizen of this country. Then the cops are going to be even more confused when they find out no country's willing to claim him."

"I actually hadn't thought this far ahead," Spot admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "At this point, jail's gotta be looking pretty good, right?" He started pacing around the lobby. "And I definitely don't want him feeling relief, even if we fucked him up so bad the relief is that he can go to jail."

"So, we break him out?" Bam asked, looking around the group. "Is that something we know how to do?"

"I"ve actually been extremely surprised at everything we've been able to do to this guy," Slingshot replied. "At any rate-"

"Except for Spot's arson," Hunter interrupted. "I'm pretty sure _everybody_ saw _that_ one coming."

" _At any rate_ ," Slingshot repeated, glaring at Hunter before focusing his attention back on the group as a whole, "we've got almost fifty members here now. I'm sure _one_ of them knows how to break someone out of jail."

"I'm not trusting those little assholes with something this important," Spot snapped. "Jesus, they'd probably fuck it all up after pissing themselves."

"If you'd stop intimidating them during training sessions maybe they wouldn't be terrified of you!" Slingshot exclaimed.

"I'm not intimidating them!" Spot argued. "All I'm doing is telling them to exercise, for god's sake."

"Yeah, and threatening them with death when they can't do it!" Slingshot snapped. "That's called _intimidation_ , Spot!"

"Who the fuck can't do a few jumping jacks?" Spot asked, glaring at his second-in-command.

"It's not a few jumping jacks!" Slingshot exclaimed. "Last week Landon told me that you were trying to make him run five miles _when he has a broken leg_!"

"Okay, first, who the fuck name's a kid 'Landon'? That's gotta be the stupidest name I've ever heard," Spot replied, no longer glaring.

"Says the kid named 'Spot'," Hunter mumbled to Speed, too quiet for their boss to hear.

"Second," Spot continued, "That leg is not fucking broken. The guy's a pussy. It's a sprain at the very worst, but I'd bet that it's absolutely nothing and he's just milking it. Right?" he asked, turning to Stealth who was leaning against a wall several feet away. As soon as Stealth nodded Spot turned back to Slingshot. "Ha! Told you so!"

Slingshot shot a quick glare at Stealth before looking back at Spot. "He doesn't even know Landon, Spot! There's no way he could know about his ankle."

"Doesn't matter," Spot shrugged off. "Stealth's always right."

"Easy to be right all the time when you never fucking talk," Speed whispered quiet enough that only Hunter heard.

"Se-sean," John Stanton gasped out, stumbling into the lobby. His clothes were barely held together, half burned, and he was sporting several bruises on his face as well as a limp. "I-I need help. Everyone's after me! Everyone! I-I … What do I do? What did I do?" he asked, his eyes wide as he quickly scanned the room. He stumbled over to Spot and fell into him, grabbing him around the middle.

"Get the fuck off of me, you slug," Spot said, kicking him off. "You want to know what you did? You fucking existed, you piece of fucking garbage. I thought I told you that already."

"Th-the cops are looking for me!" John began, clutching onto Spot's foot from his spot on the floor. "And so are all these gangs! They're saying I ratted them out to the cops! But I didn't! I swear I didn't! And I think they might've burned my house down!"

At this, Spot sent a pleased smirk over to Bam. Bam rolled his eyes, getting his boss's message loud and clear. _TOLD you I burned that sucker down._

"They just jumped me," John continued, oblivious to the silent message that was being passed between the two boys. "Told me the cops were looking for me. They think they're looking for me so I can pass on more information. But I didn't pass on anything! I don't talk to cops, Sean! I swear I don't! But now I'm not safe anywhere, and-!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, stop fucking rambling! Do you ever shut the fucking hell up?" Spot finally asked, kicking the man off his shoe. "God damn it, you think I give a shit about your stupid fucking problems?"

"Well, I mean, that's not exactly the truth," Speed told Hunter quiet enough that the rest of the room didn't hear. "We've kind of been focusing on his problems for the last three days."

"Ha! Good point, chum," Hunter said, matching his volume as he slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Not your chum," Speed said, shaking his head as he stepped aside and caused Hunter's arm to drop.

"What the fuck are you doing coming here anyway?" Spot asked, kicking John back as the man tried to crawl towards him again. "I'd fucking kill you if I didn't know it'd put you out of your misery."

"You did all this, didn't you?" John asked, looking up at Spot with wide eyes. "If you're the one who caused it then you can fix it! I can't go to jail, Sean! I can't! And everybody in New York thinks I'm a rat now! I can't go hide with another gang; they'll fucking kill me. You didn't leave me with any options!"

"Ugh, that was the point, you fucking idiot!" Spot shouted before roundhousing him in the side of the head. The man slid several feet before staying there, motionless.

"Jesus," Bam said, looking at the man for several seconds before looking back at Sean. "You kill him, you think?"

Spot shrugged before fishing in his pocket for cigarettes. "Dunno. Maybe. Hopefully. It'd make him shut the fuck up at least."

"I think you're being a little bit harsh," Speed said, walking over to the man now face down on the lobby floor. He checked his pulse as he avoided the blood that was leaking from his head.

"I said I wanted to make the fucktard suffer, didn't I?" Spot asked, lighting up his cigarette.

"Yeah, and he did," Speed pointed out. "Don't you think it's time to let up now? I mean, Jesus, dude," he said, waving a hand in John's direction. "Does that not look like suffering to you?"

"Looks like he's still alive," Spot said, shrugging again as he took a hit of his cigarette. "Definitely looks like he can suffer more."

"Yeah, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he deserves-"

"Do I really have to remind you that this is the same piece of shit douchebag that took out a gun while in the same room as Gadget?" Spot asked Speed.

"Fine, let the douchebag suffer," Speed replied, putting his hands up in surrender. "You're right. Fuck that dude."

"Fantastic!" Spot said with a wide smirk on his face. He took a few steps towards the unconscious body only to be stopped by Slingshot.

"Okay, let's think about this for a second," Slingshot suggested, pushing slightly on Spot's chest and sending him back a few steps.

Spot shot a look at Stealth before turning back to glare at his second-in-command.

"Remember how you _just_ said you hadn't thought your plan through?" Slingshot continued, keeping his hands up. "Well, let's take the time now, okay? First option, we turn him over to the cops. What'll happen to him?"

"They'll probably put him back into the system and fuck up all my hard work," Gadget grumbled.

" _Language_ , Gadget," Speed hissed before addressing the group. "I assume he'll get raped. Probably fucked up. Just because they're locked up doesn't mean the inmates won't have heard about what's going on outside. They'll have heard he's a rat."

"Second option," Slingshot said after giving a head nod to Speed, "We throw him outside and let the other gangs have at him. And they'll do … what?" he asked, looking around the group.

"Probably fuck him up and rape him," Hunter supplied with a smirk. " _And_ we might get to see it depending on where they find him."

"Why the fuck would you _want_ to see a guy get raped, you twisted fuck?" Bam asked, blanching at the thought.

"Back on track, guys!" Slingshot demanded, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. "Option three, we fuck him up and," he turned to frown at Hunter, " _hopefully_ not rape him ourselves."

"Which would be extremely satisfying," Spot said before shooting his own look toward Hunter. "The fucking up thing, anyway. I'm not in on the raping thing."

"Option _four_ ," Slingshot continued before they could get off track again, "we take him up on his plea for sanctuary."

Spot whirled around to glare at him. "And why the fuck is that even an option?"

"To prolong the inevitable!" Slingshot explained, his eyes wide as Spot advanced on him. "You can torment him for the rest of his life! Always making sure he's lacking a basic necessity of life. Kicking him down every time he gets confidence or self esteem."

"You are a beautiful man, Sling," Spot said, a smile forming on his face. He strode over to Rambler, kicking him in the side to roll him over onto his back. He knelt down beside him as soon as he heard a groan. "Listen up, Rambler, you sack of shit," he said, lifting up the man's head. "Slingshot saved you, you hear me?" He shook Rambler's head by the hair, eliciting another groan. "Consider yourself protected."

Rambler's head dropped to the ground with a loud thump, making him groan once more.

Spot got up and started across the room, towards the check-in desk. "Just because he's a member of this gang doesn't mean he gets a bed," he told Slingshot as he strode past him.

Spot supposed it wasn't so bad to have Rambler under his thumb. He could kill him whenever he wanted because he was a part of _his_ gang. The cops wouldn't know who he was if they stumbled upon his body somewhere down the line, since Gadget had taken him out of the system. And other gangs wouldn't give a fuck about him since they thought he was a rat.

And it did feel pretty good to have complete control over the douchebag that had helped make his life a living hell all those years ago. It was a pretty powerful feeling, truth be told.

Spot remembered years ago when Stealth used to tell him that he'd know when the time came for him to own Brooklyn. Sean had always just assumed he was bullshitting, or at the very most exaggerating.

But now, Spot knew exactly what Stealth had been talking about, because he felt this down to his very bones. After all these years and all his work, now was finally the time everything would pay off.

"Boys," Spot called, jumping on top of the check-in desk and turning to his seven most trusted members. The smirk on his face was growing by the minute. "It's time to take over Brooklyn."

END


End file.
